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THE MISSION OF JANICE DAY 


THE “ DO SOMETHING ** BOOKS 

BY 

HELEN BEECHER LONG 


JANICE DAY 

THE TESTING OF JANICE DAY 
HOW JANICE DAY WON 
THE MISSION OF JANICE DAY 
i 2 mo. Cloth. Illustrated 
Price per volume, $i.2S net 


SULLY AND KLEINTEICH 

NEW YORK 


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She approached the charger ridden by the bandit chief. 

(5ce page 242) 


THE FOURTH “DO SOMETHING** BOOK 


THE MISSION 

OF 

JANICE DAY 

BY 

HELEN BEECHER LONG 

AUTHOR OF “ JANICE DAY,” “ THE TESTING OP 
JANICE DAY,” ETC. 

Illustrated by 
CORINNE TURNER 



NEW YORK 

SULLY AND KLEINTEICH 



Copyright, 1917, by 
SULLY AND KLEINTEICH 

All rights reserved 



APR -5 1917 


©GI,A400208 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Something Troubles Uncle 

Jason i 

11 . Something Troubles Every- 
body i6 

III. Marty Speaks Out ... 25 

IV. “ I Told You So ’’ . . . 32 

V. Janice Goes Her Way . . 44 

VI. The Shadow of Coming Events 55 

VII. Echoes 63 

VIII. Lottie Seeks a Friend . . 72 

IX. Mrs. Scattergood Talks . . 82 

X. The Only Serious Thing . 93 

XI. ‘‘I Must Go!’’ .... 103 

XII. Nelson Does Not Understand 113 

XIII. Marty Expands . . . .121 

XIV. The Black-eyed Woman . .132 

XV. A Shock to Polktown . . 141 

XVI. Marty Runs Into Trouble . 153 

XVII. Two Explosions . . .163 

XVIII. Something Very Exciting . 174 

XIX. The Crossing .... 183 


VI 


Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 


XX. 

Roweled by Circumstances . 

201 

XXL 

At La Guarda .... 

213 

XXII. 

The Red Vest Again 

223 

XXIII. 

The Bandits .... 

232 

XXIV. 

The Situation Becomes Diffi- 



cult 

240 

XXV. 

An Amazing Meeting 

249 

XXVI. 

At Last 

263 

XXVII. 

Much to Talk About 

272 

XXVIII. 

Tom Hotchkiss Reappears 

281 

XXIX. 

Judge B-Day . 

289 

XXX. 

At Home 

298 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


She approached the charg^er ridden by the 
bandit chief. (See page 242.) . . Frontispiece y 

FACING PAGE 

What do you mean ? Has anything happened 
to daddy?” 92 

Marty Day!” repeated the girl. ‘‘How did 
you come here ? ” 164 v 

A rising murmur went through the crowd ; then ^ 
they cheered 306 ^ 



THE MISSION OF JANICE DAY 


CHAPTER I 

SOMETHING TROUBLES UNCLE JASON 

He don’t look right and he don’t sleep right,” 
complained Aunt Almira Day, swinging to and fro 
ponderously in one of the porch rockers and fan- 
ning herself vigorously with a folded copy of the 
Fireside Favorite. ‘‘ If it wasn’t for his puttin’ away 
jest as many victuals as usual I’d sartain sure think 
he was sickenin’ for something.” 

“ Oh ! I hope Uncle Jason isn’t going to be ill,” 
Janice said sympathetically. “ He has always 
seemed so rugged.” 

‘‘ He’s rugged enough,” Aunt ’Mira continued. 
“ Don’t I tell ye he’s eatin’ full and plenty? But 
there’s something on his mind — ^an’ he won’t tell 
me what ’tis.” 

Maybe you imagine it,” her niece said, pinning 
on her hat preparatory to leaving the old Day house 
on Hillside Avenue, overlooking Polktown. 

“ Imagine nothin’ ! ” ejaculated Aunt ’Mira with 
more vigor than elegance. She was not usually 
snappish in her conversation. She was a fleshy, 
1 




2 


The Mission of Janice Day 

lymphatic woman, particularly moist on this un- 
seasonably warm October day, addicted to gay colors 
in dress and the latest fashions as depicted in the 
pages of the Fireside Favorite, and usually not 
prone to worries of any kind. 

Imagine nothin’ ! ” she repeated. I’ve sum- 
mered and wintered Jase Day for more’n twenty 
years ; I’d ought to know him and all his ways from 
A to Izzard. When anything is goin’ wrong with 
him he’s alius as close-mouthed as a hard-shell clam 
with the lockjaw. I vum! I don’t know what to 
make of him now.” 

“ I haven’t noticed much out of the way with 
Uncle Jason,” Janice said reflectively. “ Aren’t 


‘‘ No, I ain’t ! ” interrupted Aunt ’Mira. ‘‘ I tell 
ye he don’t sleep right. Lays and grunts and 
thrashes all night long — mutterin’ in his sleep and 
actin’ right foolish. I never see the beat. I must 
say ’t in all the years I’ve slept beside Jase Day he 
ain’t been like he is now.” 

Why don’t you ask him what the trouble is ? ” 
‘‘ Ask him ! ” said Aunt ’Mira. “ Might as well 
ask the stone Spink they set up as a god or some- 
thing down there in Egypt. Ye’d get jest as quick 
an answer from it as ye would from Jase Day when 
he wants to keep dumb. Dumb ! when he wants to 
say nothin' he says it like a whole deef and dumb 
asylum.” 


Something Troubles Uncle Jason 3 

Janice laughed. She had noticed nothing very 
strange about her uncle's recent manner, and be- 
lieved Aunt 'Mira, little as she was given to that 
failing, was borrowing trouble. 

The wine of autumn seemed fairly to permeate 
the air. It was too beautiful a day for youth to be 
disturbed by mere imaginary troubles. Janice could 
scarcely keep from singing as she passed down the 
pleasant thoroughfare. The wide-branching trees 
shading it showered her with brilliant leaves. Across 
the placid lake the distant shore was a bank of 
variegated hues. Even the frowning height on 
which the pre-revolptionary fortress stood had 
yielded to the season's magic and looked gay in 
burning colors of shrub and vine. 

Beyond the jaws of the cove upon the shore of 
which Polktown was builded, a smart little steam- 
boat flaunted a banner of smoke across the sky. The 
new Constance Colfax would soon be at the Polk- 
town dock and Janice was on her way to meet it. 
That is, this was her obvious purpose, as it was of 
many Polktown folk abroad at the hour. As yet 
it was the single daily excitement in which one 
might indulge in this little Vermont town. Soon the 
branch of the V. C. Railroad would be opened and 
then Polktown really would be in frequent touch 
with the outside world. 

Its somnolence, its conservatism, even its crass 
ignorance of conditions in the great centers of in- 


4 The Mission of Janice Day 

dustry and population, added a charm to life as it 
was lived in Polktown. Yet it was wide-awake re- 
garding local affairs, and this pretty and well- 
dressed girl walking so blithely toward High Street 
had had an actual and important part in the enliven- 
ing of the lakeside community during the past few 
months. 

It was Janice Day’s earnestness, her “ do some- 
thing ” tactics, that had carried to happy conclusion 
several important public movements in Polktown. 
Quite unconsciously at first, by precept and example, 
she had urged awake the long dozing community, 
and, once having got its eyes open, Janice Day saw 
to it that the town did not go to sleep again. 

She loved Polktown. The Middle-West com- 
munity where she was born and had lived most of 
her girlhood was a tender memory to Janice. Her 
dear mother had died there, and for several years 
her father and she had lived very close to each other 
in their mutual sorrow. 

In Greenboro, however, she had had little oppor- 
tunity for that development of character which 
contact with the world, with strangers and with new 
conditions, is sure to bring. She had been merely a 
schoolgirl at home with daddy ” before coming 
East to live with Uncle Jason and Aunt ’Mira. In 
Polktown she had found herself. 

It may have been thought of this that curved her 
lips in the contemplative smile they wore, blossomed 


Something Troubles Uncle Jason 5 

the roses in her cheeks, and added the sparkle to her 
hazel eyes as she tripped along. 

To the view of many in Polktown Janice Day was 
pretty ; but in a certain pair of eyes that beheld her 
to-day while yet she was a great way off, she was 
the embodiment of everything that was good and 
beautiful. 

Nelson Haley, coming out of the new graded 
school, of which he was the very capable and un- 
usually beloved principal, owned this particular pair 
of eyes. He hastened his steps to the corner of the 
cross street on which the schoolhouse stood and 
overtook the girl. 

‘‘ Going right by without noticing me, I pre- 
sume? ” he said, lifting his hat, a frank smile upon 
his very youthful countenance. 

‘‘ Of course. Nelson,” she said, giving him her 
hand for a moment and gazing directly into his 
earnest eyes. That touch and look thrilled them 
both. Nelson dropped into step with her and they 
went on down the hill for several moments in a 
silence which, to these two who knew each other so 
well, suggested a more certain understanding than 
speech. 

It was Nelson who said as they turned into High 
Street : 

‘‘ What meaneth the smile, Janice ? What is the 
immediate thought in that demure head of yours? 
Something amusing, Tm sure.” 


6 


The Mission of Janice Day 

Janice laughed outright, flashing him an elfish 
glance. I was thinking of something.’’ 

“ Of course. Out with it,” he told her. Con- 
fession is good for the soul and removes the tanta- 
lizing element of curiosity.” 

“ Oh, it’s not a matter for the confessional. I 
was just remembering a certain person who arrived 
in this town not much more than three years ago, 
and how different she was then — and how different 
the town ! — from the present.” 

‘‘ I acknowledge the immense change which has 
come over the town; but you, my dear, in your 
nature and character are as changeless as the hills — 
even as the Green Mountains of old Vermont.” 

“ Why ! I don’t know whether that is a compli- 
ment or not. Nelson,” she cried. “ Daddy says the 
man who doesn’t change his politics and his reli- 
gious outlook in twenty years is dead. They have 
merely neglected to bury him.” 

The fundamentals cannot change,” the philo- 
sophical young schoolmaster observed. “ You have 
developed, dear girl; but the bud that is blossom- 
ing into the flower of your womanhood was curled 
in the leaf of your character when you first looked 
at Polktown from the deck of the old Constance 
Colfax” 

“ Why, Nelson ! that is almost poetical,” she said, 
glancing at him again as they walked side by side 
toward the dock at the foot of Polktown’s principal 


Something Troubles Uncle Jason 7 

business thoroughfare. And whether it is poetry 
or not I like it,” she added, dimpling again. 

“ Oh, my dear! how different the place looked 
that day from what it is now. Why, it was only 
known as Poketown! And it was the pokiest, most 
rubbishy, lackadaisical village I ever saw. Just 
think of its original name being lost by years of 
careless pronunciation! The people had even for- 
gotten that sterling old patriot, Hubbard Polk, who 
first settled here and defied the ‘ Yorkers.’ ” 

Janice laughed with a reflective note in her voice. 

“ Why, when they cleaned up the town Will 

you ever forget Polktown’s first Clean-Up Day, 
Nelson? ” 

'' Never,” chuckled the young man. Such a 
shaking up of the dry bones, both literal and meta- 
phorical ! ” 

“ I can see,” said Janice more quietly, ‘‘ that Polk- 
town has changed and developed whether I have or 

not. We certainly have learned ” 

To do something/' finished Nelson with empha- 
sis. That’s it exactly. The teachings instilled into 
his daughter’s mind by that really wonderful man, 
Mr. Broxton Day, to the end that she is always 
eager to begin the battle while other folk are merely 
talking about it, has served to put Polktown on the 
map.” 

Janice squeezed his arm, dimpling and smiling. 
‘‘ Dear daddy I ” she mused. “ If he only could 


8 The Mission of Janice Day 

get away from business affairs and come out of dis- 
tracted Mexico to spend his time here in peace and 
quiet.” 

‘ Peace and quiet ! ' ” repeated the schoolmaster. 
'*Ask Walky Dexter what he thinks of that. If 
your father sustains the reputation his daughter 
has given him, Polktown would be prodded into an 
even more strenuous existence than that of our 
recent successful campaign for no license. Walky 
believes, Janice, you have all the characteristics of 
a capsicum plaster.” 

‘‘ Now, Nelson!” 

‘‘ Fact I You ask him. You’re the greatest 
counter-irritant that was ever applied to any dead- 
and-alive settlement. . . . ’Lo, Walky I ” 

The village expressman, as well known as the 
town pump and quite as important, drew the bony 
and sleepy Josephus to an abrupt stop beside the 
smiling pair of young people. Walky’s broad, 
wind-blown countenance was a-grin and his eyes 
twinkled as he broke into speech : 

“ Jefers-pelters ! d’you know what I caught my- 
self a-doin’ when I seen you two folks goin’ down 
hill ahead of me ? ” 

‘‘I couldn’t guess, Walky. What?” asked 
Janice. 

Whistlin’ that there * Bridle March ’ they play 
on the church organ when there’s a weddin’ — haw ! 
haw 1 haw ! ” 


Something Troubles Uncle Jason 9 

Janice colored rosily, but could not refrain 
from laughter at Walky’s crude joke. Nobody 
could be very angry with Walky Dexter, no matter 
what he said or did. 

“ That’s a poor brand of humor you are peddling, 
old man,” said the schoolmaster coolly. “ Besides, 
you don’t pronounce the word right. It’s ‘ hri-dal " 
not ' bridle.’ You speak it as though it were a part 
of Josephus’ harness.” 

“ Young man,” responded Walky solemnly, but 
with a twinkle in his watery eye, “ when they play 
that march for you ye’ll find ye’re harnessed all 
right. I been merried thutty year now and I oughter 
know if ’tain’t a ' bridle ’ march and a halter they 
lead ye to ’stead of a altar.” 

He exploded another laugh in approval of his 
own wit and rattled on down to the dock. There 
was little self-consciousness in the manner of the 
schoolmaster and Janice. They looked at each 
other understanding^ again and smiled. 

Why seek to hide an obvious fact ? Every person 
in Polktown who had arrived at the age of under- 
standing and was not yet senile knew that Nelson 
Haley and Janice Day had “ made a match of it.” 
Only the girl’s youth and the necessity for the 
young man to become established in his calling pre- 
cluded the thought of matrimony for the present. 
But they were sure of their feeling for each other. 
Both had been tested in the months that had passed 


10 The Mission of Janice Day 

since Nelson came to Polktown fresh from his col- 
lege course and had shown Janice that he could 
‘'make good/' There had been conflict in both 
their lives; there had even been clash in their 
opinions; but the foundation of their affection for 
each other was too well established for either to 
doubt. 

The simple romance of their lives seemed very 
sweet indeed to those of their friends whose eyes 
were not holden. Nelson Haley and Janice Day 
were at the beginning of that path which, if some- 
times rugged and steep to the travelers thereon, is 
primrose strewn. 

They passed one of the largest stores in Polk- 
town — an “ emporium " as the gilt sign stated — 
which had been opened only a few months. Nelson, 
picking up the first idle topic, said; 

“I wonder what's happened to Tom Hotchkiss? 
I haven't seen him about for some days — and you 
can't very well miss that important looking red vest 
he wears." 

“ Somebody said he’d gone away,” Janice replied, 
as lightly interested in the subject as the school- 
master. “To buy goods, I presume. He often 
makes trips to the city for that purpose." 

“ Hey, you folks ! What' re you pokin' along so 
for ? " a shrill voice demanded behind them. “ She's 
cornin' into the dock now." 

A boy clattered by them, swinging a strapful of 


Something Troubles Uncle Jason 11 

books and grinning at Janice and Nelson com- 
panionably. He was a sturdy boy with a good- 
humored face plentifully besprinkled with freckles. 

“ They can dock the Constance Colfax without 
our being there, Marty,’’ Janice said. 

Hi tunket ! they can’t without / say so,” her 
cousin flung back over his shoulder as he clattered 
on. 

Nelson sighed. ‘‘ You would not believe that boy 
stood well in his classes and had the benefit of my 
precept and example in speech for several hours each 
school day of the year.” 

'' Marty is incorrigible, I fear,” Janice returned, 
with a smile. 

He sheds his knowledge of polite English when 
he steps out of the school building just as a snake 
sheds its skin. He is perfectly hopeless.” 

And at heart a perfect dear,” announced Janice. 
'' There’s something better than even a knowledge 
of good English in Marty Day.” 

Nelson’s eyes twinkled. ‘‘Do you know,” he 
observed, “ I suspect you are prejudiced in your 
cousin’s favor?” 

They reached the wharf just as the passengers 
landing at Polktown were streaming up from the 
boat. There were several commercial travelers 
bound for the Lake View Inn and the ministrations 
of Marm Parraday, who was now its overseeing 
spirit. Besides these there was but one disembarking 


12 The Mission of Janice Day 

passenger. She attracted Janice Day’s immediate 
attention. 

“Look, Nelson; here comes Mrs. Scattergood. 
She’s just returning from a visit to her son. Do 
you know, she is the first friend I made when I 
came to Polktown? She was on the boat that day 
coming over from the Landing.” 

“ The old girl looks as spry as ever,” said Nel- 
son disrespectfully. “ And I guarantee she already 
has her hammer out.” 

“ Nelson ! And you criticize Marty’s language ! ” 
laughed Janice. 

“ There is some slang, young lady, that so adds 
to the forcefulness of English that the dictionaries 
adopt it. Say ! are you going to stop for her ? ” 

“ Oh, I must. Nelson,” Janice said with a rueful 
glance at the schoolmaster. 

“ Then, to quote my slangiest pupil again — ^good- 
night! ” and Nelson went away cheerfully to greet 
several of the young men of the town grouped on 
the other side of the wharf. 

“Well, well, Janice Day!” chirped the little old 
woman with a birdlike tilt of her head when the 
girl welcomed her. “You be a pleasant sight to 
see when a body comes home. And I be glad to 
get home. I tell my son’s wife I can’t make many 
more of these trips to Skunk’s Holler. It’s too 
fatiguing, and at my age I like my own bed and my 
own fireside. I s’pose Kill’s well?” 


Something Troubles Uncle Jason 13 

‘‘ Very well — and very happy/’ said Janice softly, 
looking at the sharp-featured old woman with grave 
eyes. 

“ ’Sthat so? Well, I s’pect she’s relieved in her 
mind now the bar at the hotel is closed,” snapped 
Mrs. Scattergood. ‘‘ Hopewell Drugg can’t go fur 
astray if he don’t go playin’ that fiddle of his to 
no more o’ them dances. Though you can’t trust 
no man too fur — ^that’s been my experience with 
em. 

“ Oh, dear, me ! how unfortunate you have been 
all your life, Mrs. Scattergood,” sighed Janice. 
There -was laughter in her eyes if her lips were 
grave. Mrs. Scattergood’s fault-finding character 
was well known to the girl. 

“ Hi, Janice ! ” broke in Marty Day’s voice, and 
he came puffing up the hill after his cousin and 
Mrs. Scattergood. “ How-do, Miz’ Scattergood ? 
Did y’see Tom Hotchkiss come ashore?” 

“ Why, no, Marty. I did not notice him. 
Why?” Janice said. 

“ Dad wanted I should find out if he came home 
to-day. But I didn’t see him.” 

‘‘What’s Jase Day want o’ Tom Hotchkiss?” 
demanded Mrs. Scattergood sharply. 

“ I really couldn’t say,” Janice replied. 

“ Wal, he warn’t on the boat ; I can tell ye that. 
And to my notion Tom Hotchkiss is as onsartin 
a feller to figger on as any party in this town. He 


14 


The Mission of Janice Day 

was as full o* tricks as a monkey when he was a 
boy here ; and he didn’t onlearn none o’ them, I’ll be 
bound, all the years he was away, nobody knows 
where. I wouldn’t trust Tom Hotchkiss with a 
nickel no further than I could swing an elephant by 
its tail.” 

‘‘ Oh my, Mrs. Scattergood ! that wouldn’t be 
far,” laughed Janice. They came to the intersec- 
tion of Hillside Avenue and High Street. Well, 
I must leave you here. I’m glad to see you home 
again, and looking so well.” 

This was on Friday evening. Janice, happy and 
care-free, went home to help Aunt ’Mira prepare 
supper. There seemed nothing in the world now to 
trouble Janice Day and she had forgotten Aunt 
’Mira’s prognostications of evil. 

News from Mexico — from dear daddy at the 
mine — ^had been very favorable for weeks. Of 
course, back in the girl’s mind was always the fear, 
now lulled to sleep, that something bad might hap- 
pen to Mr. Broxton Day down in battle-ridden 
Mexico. But the present de facto government 
seemed to favor American mining interests, and 
Mr. Day wrote very hopefully of the outlook for 
the future. 

Uncle Jason Day, a silent man at best, came in 
to supper much as usual. In the midst of the meal 
there was a rap upon the kitchen door and Marty 
clumsily arose to answer the summons. 


Something Troubles Uncle Jason 15 

“ Say, Dad ! ” the boy cried, it’s Aaron Whel- 
pley. Says he wants to see you outside.” 

“ What’s he want o’ ye, Jase? ” asked Aunt ’Mira 
curiously, as her husband left the table. “ Don’t 
he clerk down to Tom Hotchkiss’ store?” 

Uncle Jase muttered something unintelligible and 
went out on the porch, closing the door carefully 
behind him. The air of expectancy over the three 
left at the supper table in the Day kitchen increased 
as the minutes passed. 

‘‘ More secrets,” said Mrs. Day lachrymosely. “ I 
might’s well be merried to the Shah of Pershy. I’d 
know jest as much about his business as I do about 
Jase Day’s.” 

Marty only chuckled at his mother’s complaint. 
Janice felt some little perturbation. It increased as 
Uncle Jason’s absence continued. When finally he 
opened the door suddenly and almost staggered into 
the kitchen, his face blanched and his eyes express- 
ing an emotion that she could not fathom, the girl 
leaped simultaneously to her feet and to a con- 
clusion. 

“ It’s daddy ! ” she gasped. “ Something has hap- 
pened again in Mexico! Oh, Uncle Jason! what 
is it?” 


CHAPTER II 


SOMETHING TROUBLES EVERYBODY 

Uncle Jason stood suddenly straighter and 
looked at his niece with clearing visage. His wife 
shrilled : 

“Ye wanter scare everybody out o’ their seven 
senses, Jase Day? What’s the matter of you? ” 

“ Nothin’,” stammered Mr. Day with dry lips. 

“ Is it about daddy? ” questioned Janice again. 

“ No, ’tain’t nothin’ about Brocky,” said Uncle 
Jason more stoutly. “ I — I felt bad for a minute.” 

“ What’s the matter with you ? Is it yer digestion 
again? If you air goin’ to get that on ye at your 
time o’ life where’ll you be when you’re an old 
man? ” demanded Aunt ’Mira. “ My victuals ain’t 
never suited ye none too well ” 

“ I’ve et ’em for more’n twenty year, ain’t I ? ” 
snapped her husband, sitting down heavily in his 
chair again. 

“ Under protest, I don’t doubt,” sighed Aunt 
’Mira. “ I know I ain’t as good a cook as some.” 

“ ‘ The Lord sends the food but the devil sends the 
cooks,’ ” quoted Marty in an undertone to his cousin. 

16 


Something Troubles Everybody 17 

“ You’re good enough/' Uncle Jason gruffly 
stated. 

Oh, no I ain't," was the mournful reply. “ I 
know my risin' bread never did suit ye, Jase Day. 
And ye said yer mother’s pies was fur an' away 
better’n mine." 

‘‘ When'd I ever say that ? " demanded the man. 

'‘Jest after we was merried,” Aunt 'Mira said, 
wiping her eyes on the corner of her apron. 

“ Oh, gee ! " exploded Marty. 

"Twenty year an more ago!" snorted Uncle 
Jason. 

" Why, of course he doesn't think so now^' urged 
Janice, seeking to oil the troubled waters of Aunt 
'Mira's soul. 

"Of all women! " groaned Mr. Day. 

" Oh, no," sighed his wife, who was gradually 
working herself into a tearful state. " I know I 
ain’t been the helpmeet you expected me to be, Jase 
Day." Uncle Jason snorted. " I know my failin’s " 
— in a tone that admitted they were very few 
— " and I long ago seen ye didn’t trust me, Jase. I 
never know nothin' about your business. I never 
know what ye aim to do till it’s done. I never " 

" I snum ! " cried Uncle Jase. " What is it ye 
wanter know? There ain't no satisfyin' you 
women." 

Janice tried to smooth matters again. " I’m sure. 
Aunt 'Mira, if Uncle Jason doesn’t always take 


18 


The Mission of Janice Day 

you into his confidence about business matters it's 
only because he wants to save you worry." 

“ Now you’ve said something," commented 
Marty vehemently, while his father looked at the 
girl gratefully. 

I dunno what she wants ter know," he said. 

Well," Aunt 'Mira put in quickly, showing that 
she was not at all lacking in shrewdness and that 
there might be method in her procedure, ''what 
did that Aaron Whelpley want ter see ye for, 
f 'rinstance ? " 

" Oh ! him? " gasped Uncle Jason, flushing dully. 
" Why — jest nothin’ at all ! nothin’ at all ! Came 
to tell me — ahem! — Tom Hotchkiss hadn’t come 
back yet." 

" Why, I told you that. Dad I ’’ ejaculated Marty 
in surprise. 

" Ya-as — so ye did," faltered his father. " But 
Aaron knowed I wanted to see Tom ’’ 

"What for?" demanded Aunt ’Mira, with an 
insistence in getting at the meat in the kernel that 
amazed Janice. 

"Why — er — on business," admitted Mr. Day 
stumblingly. 

" There it goes ! ’’ broke down Aunt ’Mira, fairly 
sobbing now. "Jest as soon as I wanter know 
about anything I should know about. I’m put down 
an’ sat upon. Oh I Oh ! " 

"Woman! you’re crazy!” ejaculated Mr. Day, 


Something Troubles Everybody 19 

pushing back his chair hastily and leaving his supper 
but half eaten. 

Janice ran to put her arms about Aunt 'Mira's 
plump and shaking shoulders, meanwhile motioning 
her uncle toward the sitting room. Marty, having 
finished, rose to follow his father. 

“ There ! " sobbed Mrs. Day, ‘‘ it's jest as I tell 
ye. He don't relish my victuals. He ain't et supper 
enough for a sparrow." 

“ Any sparrow that et what dad did," said Marty 
as he left the room, “ would die of apoplexy! Turn 
off the water-works, Ma. That won't get you 
nothin'." 

“ Men air sech heartless critters," sobbed Aunt 
'Mira. 

‘‘ Why, you sound like Mrs. Scattergood ! " de- 
clared Janice with a little laugh. ‘‘To hear her 
to-day " 

“ Do tell I " exclaimed Mrs. Day briskly and wip- 
ing her eyes. “ Is Miz' Scattergood home again ? " 

The cloud was dissipated from the good woman's 
mind as quickly as it had gathered. She bustled 
about with Janice, clearing the table and washing 
the supper dishes. Tears never left their mark 
upon Aunt Almira's smooth and plump cheeks. 

But Janice had her doubts regarding Uncle 
Jason's peace of mind. Through the open doorway 
she saw him sitting by the reading lamp with his 
newspaper. She knew that he looked on the first 


20 The Mission of Janice Day 

page only, and from the expression on his face 
doubted if he saw a word of the print before him. 
When she had polished the last plate she went in 
and patted his shoulder. He looked up at her with 
troubled eyes and the girl stooped and lightly kissed 
his cheek above the tangle of his beard. 

“Of course it is really nothing about daddy? 
she whispered. 

“Not a-tall! Not a-tall, Niece Janice!” he de- 
clared. “ It’s jest — well — nothin’,” and he lapsed 
into a gloomy silence. 

The family life at the Day homestead was very 
different now from what it had been when Janice 
first came there to live. Like many people of the 
town, the Day family had got into a rut. Uncle 
Jason was frankly shiftless, although he was a good 
farmer and able to earn a fair wage at carpenter’s 
work if he so desired. 

Aunt Almira had grown hopeless and careless, 
too. Ambition seemed to have fled the Polktown 
Days completely, and Janice could scarcely realize 
that they were her father’s relatives. Marty had 
been both a lazy and a saucy boy, associating with 
idle companions in the evenings and hating school 
only a degree less than he hated work. 

It delighted the girl now to see her cousin at the 
sitting room table with his books. Marty was still 
no lover of learning; but he had an aim in view — 
he desired to become a civil engineer, and he had 


Something Troubles Everybody 21 

learned that his present studies were necessary if 
he were to attain his goal. 

Nowadays if Marty went out after supper it was 
to attend a meeting of the Boys’ Club affiliated with 
the Public Library Association, or to go to class 
meeting,” which was a part of the social activities 
of the public school established by Nelson Haley. 

Matters having quieted down after the supper- 
table eruption, Aunt ’Mira got her sewing basket and 
Janice her text-books. The girl was still attending 
the seminary at Middletown four days a week. She 
ran over in her Kremlin car her father had given 
her and returned each afternoon. She would con- 
tinue to do this until snow flew, by which time it 
was hoped passenger trains would be running on the 
V. C. branch between Middletown and Polktown 
Landing. 

Mrs. Day sighed heavily, just to let her husband 
know that the storm in her breast was not wholly 
assuaged; but Janice, busy with her studies, had 
forgotten all about the family bickering until she 
was suddenly aroused to the fact that it was now 
Uncle Jason and Marty who had locked horns. 

“ No. I sha’n’t give you another cent ! ” Mr. 
Day said with vigor. You have too much money 
to spend as it is.” 

“ Gee, Dad ! ” groaned his son, “ there ain't that 
much money, is there?” 

Mr. Day snorted: ‘‘Young spendthrift! When 


22 The Mission of Janice Day 

I was your age I never had ten cents a month for 
spending.” 

Huh ! ” said Marty. ‘‘ Fm glad I didn’t know 
Gran* dad Day then. He must have been some tight- 
wad.** 

I saved my money — put it in the bank,** snapped 
his father, who seemed very fretful indeed on this 
evening. 

“ Well, Fve got money in the savings bank,** 
sniffed Marty. ‘‘ I s*pose I can take out some and 
get those hockey sticks and things I want. We’re 
going to have a regular team this winter, Nelse 
Haley says, and play Middletown High.” 

“ Ye’ll not take a cent out of the bank, d’ye hear 
me ? ” said his father, more sharply. “ Ye’d never 
had it there if yer mother hadn’t opened the account 
for you and give ye the book.” 

** Well, now, Jason,” put in Aunt ’Mira, why 
shouldn’t the boy have a little money to spend ? All 
the other boys do. You air the clostest man ” 

“ Close? close? ” repeated Uncle Jason, his voice 
rising shrilly. '‘You think Fm close, do you? 
Well, lemme tell ye, Fll be closer, and this fambly’ll 
live a sight more economical in the future than it 
has in the past. We ain’t got no money to fool 
away ” 

" Aw, rats ! ” growled Marty under his breath, 
slamming shut his book and rising from the table. 
" That*s always the way,” he added. " Try to touch 


Something Troubles Everybody 23 

you for a cent and you’d think you was losing a 
patch of your hide.” 

Oh, Marty ! ” gasped Janice. Don’t ! ” 

“ It’s your father’s way,” croaked Aunt ’Mira, 
rocking violently. ‘‘ Tech him in the pocketbook 
an’ ye tech him on the raw.” 

“ By mighty! ” ejaculated Mr. Day, crumpling his 
paper into a ball and throwing it on the floor. “ If 

ever a man was so pestered ” 

“ They don’t mean it. Uncle Jason 1 They don’t 
mean it,” cried Janice, almost in tears. “ They don’t 
understand. But something must be the matter — 

something is troubling you ” 

“ Well, why don’t he tell then ? ” shrilled Mrs. 

Day. “ If he’s hidin’ something ” 

Her husband rose up and turned to glare at both 
her and his son. His face was apoplectic; his lips 
twitched. Janice had never seen him moved in this 
way before and even Aunt ’Mira looked startled. 

“ I am hidin’ somethin’,” the man said harshly. 
“ I been hidin’ it for weeks. I’ll tell ye all what ’tis 
now. Ye’d know it soon enough anyway.” 

“ Well, I vum ! ” murmured Aunt ’Mira. “ Is he 
goin’ ter finally tell it ? ” 

“ G^t it off your chest. Dad,” Marty said care- 
lessly. “ You’ll feel better.” 

There was no sympathy expressed for him except 
in Janice Day’s countenance. The man wet his 
lips, hesitated, and finally burst out with : 


24 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ I had an int’rest in Tom Hotchkiss’ store. Ye 
all knowed that; but ye didn’t know how much. I 
went on his notes — all of ’em. For nigh twelve 
thousand dollars. More’n I got in the world. 
More’n this place is wuth — an’ the stock — every- 
thing! All I got in the world is gone if Tom Hotch- 
kiss ain’t an honest man, and it looks as though he’d 
run away and didn’t intend to come back ! ” 


CHAPTER III 


MARTY SPEAKS OUT 

The silence of misunderstanding, almost of un- 
belief, fell upon the little group in the Day sitting 
room, shocked as it was by Uncle Jason’s declara- 
tion. Janice could not find her tongue. Aunt 
’Mira’s fat face was as blank as a wall. Marty 
finally recovered breath enough to expel: 

“ Whew ! Hi tunket ! Thafs what was behind his 
red vest, was it ? Has he really stung you. Dad ? ” 
But, Jase Day!” at last burst out Aunt ’Mira, 
** ye air jest a-scarin’ us for nothin’. Of course you 
can levy on his goods.” 

“ They’re not paid for,” Uncle Jason interrupted. 

That’s what Aaron found out for me. Tom got 
a line of credit I didn’t know nothin’ about. The 
jobbers and wholesalers have first call. There are 
no outstandin’ accounts owin’ the store; Tom did 
a spot cash business.” 

“ But what did he do with the money he got on 
the notes you indorsed. Uncle Jason? ” cried Janice. 

“ That’s what I don’t know,” Mr. Day replied, 
sitting down heavily again and resting his head in 
both hands. ‘‘ He’s gone — and ifs gone, Thafs all 
25 


26 The Mission of Janice Day 

I know. I found out to-day he hasn’t got ten dol- 
lars to his account at the bank. The bank holds 
most of his notes, and of course they are goin’ to 
come down on me as the notes fall due.” 

Mr. Day groaned very miserably. Salt tears 
stung Janice’s eyelids. 

“ Cricky, Dad ! can they take everything that be- 
longs to us ? ” asked Marty, awestruck. 

Mr. Day nodded. Ev’ry endurin’ thing. On 
an indorsement of a note even a man’s tools and his 
household goods ain’t exempt.” 

“ Oh, Uncle! ” cried Janice in pity. 

Well, then, Jase Day,” gasped his wife, re- 
gaining her usual volubility, “ what have I alius told 
ye? If ye’d put the homestead in my name they 
couldn’t get that away from ye. It’s what I alius 
wanted ye to do. And I ain’t even got dower right 
in it, as I’d oughter have. Ye don’t ’pear to have 
the sense ye was born with. Write your name on 
another man’s note — an’ for sech a feller as Tom 
Hotchkiss — when ye didn’t know nothin’ about 
him.” 

“ I went to school with his father. Old Caleb 
Hotchkiss and me was chums,” defended Uncle 
Jason weakly. ‘‘ I alius thought Tom had it in him 
to make good.” 

Oh, he’s done good, it ’pears,” snapped Aunt 
’Mira. “ He’s done you good an’ brown. Ye 
wouldn’t tell me nothin’ about it, ’cept ye’d invested 


Marty Speaks Out 27 

a little money in the store when ’twas first opened. 
That’ s what ye said” 

And it was the truth,” groaned Uncle Jason. 
It was later I indorsed the notes.” 

Serves you right for not takin’ your lawful 
wife into your confidence,” stormed Aunt ’Mira in 
mingled wrath and tears. “ And now what’s to 
become of us I’d like to know ? Ev’rything we got 
taken from us ! Kin they really do that, Jase? ” 
The man nodded his head miserably. 

‘‘ Well, all I gotter say is that it’s mighty hard on 
me” complained Mrs. Day. '‘If you was fool 

enough to trust a scalawag like Tom Hotchkiss ” 

" It wasn’t two weeks ago you was speakin’ so 
well of him,” interrupted her husband, stung to the 
retort discourteous. “ You said he was the smartest 
man in Polktown and if I’d been ha’f the man he 
was at his age I’d ha’ made a fortune.” 

Marty suddenly laughed, high and shrilly. 
“ Surely! surely! ” he exploded. “ You could easy 
make a fortune the same way Tom Hotchkiss done 
— by stealin’ it from others.” 

" Well — — ” began his mother, when to Janice’s, 
as well as his parents’, vast surprise, her cousin 
suddenly dominated the occasion. 

" You keep still, Ma ! You’ve said enough. Dad 
didn’t go for to do it, did he ? He wasn’t aimin’ to 
lose his money and make us poor, was he ? D’you 
think he did it a-purpose?” 


28 The Mission of Janice Day 

** Well — no, Marty,” admitted Mrs. Day, I don’t 
think he did. But ” 

“ Nuff said, then,” declared the youngest of the 
Day clan briskly. What’s done’s done. No use 
bawlin’ over spilt sody-water,” and he grinned more 
or less cheerfully. “ What good did the money dad 
had in the bank ever do us? Not a bit! It might 
as well have been burnt up. We can hire this house 
to live in just as well’s though we owned it, can’t 
we ? And not have to worry about taxes and repairs 
neither.” 

“Why, Marty!” murmured Janice, amazed by 
this outburst, yet somewhat impressed by the sound- 
ing sense of it. 

“ Hi tunket ! ” exploded her cousin, expanding as 
he looked around on his surprised relatives. “ What 
does it matter, anyway? Ain’t I here, Ma? Have 
you forgot I’m alive. Dad? Can’t I go to work 
and earn money enough to support this family if I 
haf to? I — guess — yes! Why!” pursued the ex- 
cited Marty, “ I can go to work next week at Job- 
bin’s sawmill an’ earn my dollar-seventy-five a day. 
Sure I can! Or I bet I could get a job in some 
store. Or on the Constance Colfax — they pay deck- 
hands a dollar-fifty. And there’s the railroad goin’ 
to open up. 

“ Pshaw ! there’s nothin’ to it,” declared the boy. 
“ What if dad has got the rheumatism? I can work 
an’ we won’t starve.” 


29 


Marty Speaks Out 

“ Marty! ” cried Janice, running around the table 
and putting both arms about his neck. You dear 
boy — you're a man! ” 

“ Huh! ” grunted Marty half strangled. Who 
said I wasn't ? " 

‘‘ He’s a good, dear child,” sobbed his mother. 
‘‘ D’you hear him, Jase Day? ” 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Day brokenly. I dunno but 
it’s wuth while losin’ ev’rything ye own to I’arn that 
ye got a boy like him.” 

Marty was suddenly smitten with a great wave 
of confusion. His enthusiasm had carried him out 
of himself. ‘‘ Aw, well,” he mumbled, ‘‘ I was just 
tellin’ you. You needn’t worry. I can get a job.” 

And I’ll sell my car, Uncle,” Janice said gayly. 
“ That’ll help some. And my board money. That 
comes regularly, thank goodness! 

‘‘Of course,” she pursued, “ as Marty says, we 
can hire the house to live in if you have to lose the 
dear old place. We’ll be all right.” 

“ ’Tain’t that. I can work yet,” groaned Uncle 
Jase. “ It’s losin’ all we’ve saved.” 

“ Well ! whose fault is that? ” demanded his wife ; 
but Janice stopped her. 

“ Now, Auntie, Marty’s said the last word on 
that topic. Let us not waste our time in recrimi- 
nation. We must get a new outlook on life, that 
is all.” 

“ But all I gotter say ” 


30 


The Mission of Janice Day 

“ You’ve said it, Ma, already,” put in Marty. 
“ Don’t spread it on thicker. Dad ain’t likely to 
forget it. You don’t have to keep reminding him 
of it.” 

It was hard on the woman, this shutting off her 
speech. As with many shallow-minded folk, speech 
was Aunt ’Mira’s safety valve. Afterward, when 
Uncle Jason had gone down town “ to see about it ” 
and Marty had accompanied him (the first time in 
all probability since he was a child the boy had 
ever willingly accompanied his father anywhere) 
the pent-up torrent of Aunt ’Mira’s feelings burst 
upon Janice’s head. 

She put away her books with a sigh. The mor- 
row was a school holiday, anyway. “ Aunt ’Mira,” 
she said softly, “ don’t you suppose Uncle Jason 
feels this thing keenly? Don’t you think his very 
soul must be embittered because he has made this 
mistake? ” 

“ Mistake ! ” repeated the fretful woman. 

Needn’t ha’ been no mistake. If he’d asked 


“ You would have been no wiser than he, Aunt 
’Mira,” Janice interrupted with confidence. I 
know you. I remember how you had this Mr. 
Hotchkiss to tea here one night some months ago, 
and how pleasant he seemed. I expect that must 
have been when Uncle Jason was about to indorse 
his notes and he wanted your opinion of the man.” 


Marty Speaks Out 31 

Goodness, Janice! do you suppose so? ” gasped 
Aunt 'Mira. 

Yes, I do. You know how uncle is — ^he doesn’t 
talk much, but he thinks a lot of your opinipn. And 
I know he must feel worse over losing your confi- 
dence than over losing the money.” 

‘‘ Why, he ain’t lost my confidence ! ” cried her 
aunt. “ I know he never meant to do it.” 

“ Then tell him so when he comes home, dear,” 
Janice whispered with her arms about her aunt’s 
neck. “ Don’t be harsh to him at a time when he 
needs all the sympathy we can give him.” 

Aunt Almira cried a little, then wiped her eyes 
s and kissed her niece. 

“You’re a great comfort, Janice. What we 
should do without you I dunno. An’ I guess ye 
air right. We women only hafter suffer for a 
man’s fool tricks. But the man has to suffer and 
make good for ’em, too. Poor Jase! ” 


CHAPTER IV 


I TOLD YOU SO 

Janice thought at once of her father when this 
serious trouble for Uncle Jason and the family 
arose. She said nothing about doing so, but before 
going to bed that night she wrote Mr. Broxton Day 
about his brother’s trouble. 

Janice’s father was considerably younger than his 
half-brother, had seen a deal more of the world than 
Jason Day, and had accumulated a much larger for- 
tune than the plodding Polktown farmer and car- 
penter ever hoped or expected to possess. 

Uncle Jason was inclined to criticize Mr. Brox- 
ton Day for putting all his eggs in one basket,” 
as he had done in investing in mining property in 
Chihuahua, Mexico. But now it seemed as though 
Uncle Jason, shrewd as he thought himself, had 
made a similar mistake. He had backed Tom 
Hotchkiss beyond the value of all his property, both 
real and personal. 

The investment of Janice’s father in the Mexican 
mine had paid him well until insurrection broke out 
in the district. The superintendent then in charge 
32 


“ I Told You So ” 33 

of the mine had run away while the workmen had 
joined the insur rectos. 

It was necessary for somebody to go down into 
the troubled country and “ do something/’ and the 
duty devolved upon Mr. Broxton Day of all the 
men financially interested in the mining project. He 
had hastened to the mine while Janice came to Polk- 
town to live during his absence. Of course, neither 
supposed this parting was for long. Now more 
than three years had passed, during which time there 
had been more than one occasion when Mr. Day was 
in danger of losing his life. 

He had managed to hold the property for himself 
and his business associates, however, and had made 
friends among most of the warring factions fretting 
Chihuahua. Of late he had been able to hire work- 
men and get out ore. The profits began to roll in 
again. Mr. Broxton Day’s share of these profits 
for a month was more than Uncle Jason saw in cash 
for several years. 

We must help him, Daddy,” wrote Janice. ‘‘ He 
has been the dearest man — so kind to me, as they all 
have been ; but Uncle Jason particularly. He is not 
naturally demonstrative. His actions speak louder 
than words. He backed me up, you know, when I 
was arrested for speeding my car that time. And 
when Nelson was in trouble over those stolen gold 


34 : 


The Mission of Janice Day 

coins Uncle Jason went on his bail bond and hired 
the lawyer to defend him. 

We must do all we can for him. The next 
letter I write you, dear Daddy, will contain the full 
particulars of his difficulties — when the notes come 
due and their amounts. Meanwhile you can be 
thinking it over and planning in that perfectly 
wonderful brain of yours, how best to help Uncle 
Jason ward off disaster.’’ 

This kind attitude toward Uncle Jason in his 
trouble was not assumed by many, as Janice had 
foretold. A man like Jason Day in a community like 
Polktown was bound to win disapproval from many 
of his neighbors. 

In the first place “ those Days ” had been looked 
upon as shiftless and of little account. Janice’s 
activities had done much to change that opinion; 
but there were yet families in Polktown that did 
not number Aunt Almira on their calling lists. 
Moreover, until the recent town meeting when Uncle 
Jason, under Janice’s spur, had been so active in the 
no license campaign, he had been on the ‘‘ wrong 
side ” in politics. Uncle Jason was not of the 
political party that has made Vermont as rock- 
bound ” as her own Green Mountains. 

So, there were many who, when they heard of 
Mr. Day’s difficulties, said it served the tight-fisted 
fellow ” just right. And many who might better 


I Told You So ” 


35 


have remembered Uncle Jason's unfailing if some- 
what grim neighborly kindness, whispered and 
smirked as they discussed the story in public. At 
the best, most of his friends proved to be of the I- 
told-you-so variety. When it became publicly 
known that Tom Hotchkiss had absconded with the 
funds and the door of his “ emporium " was shut, 
there was scarcely a person in Polktown who, it 
seemed, could not have told Uncle Jason Tom was 
dishonest. 

It was on Saturday evening, following a long 
day of sore worry for Uncle Jason, ending in the 
certain knowledge that scarcely a dollar's worth of 
property had been left behind by Hotchkiss to meet 
his liabilities, that Nelson Haley came over to sup- 
per, as he often did on this evening in the week. 
They were still lingering around the supper table 
when Walky Dexter came stumping up the porch 
steps. 

Jefers-pelters ! still eatin’ ? " he cackled. ‘‘ All 
the fambly here ? Where's your gal, Marty ? " 

‘‘ Haven't got none," declared the boy with a 
scowl as positive as his double negative. 

“What?" exploded Walky in apparent surprise. 
“ Then I be needin’ spectacles, jest as my ol' woman 
says. I thought I seen you bangin' around Hope 
Drugg's store more’n a little lately; and I vum I 
thought ’twas you 't sat beside little Lottie at the 
Ladies' Aid supper t’other night an' treated her to 


36 The Mission of Janice Day 

ice-cream till the child liketer bust — er — ^haw ! haw ! 
haw ! ” 

“ Aw, you don’t need glasses, Walky. What you 
need is blinders,” growled Marty with some im- 
patience. 

“ Ya-as ; I’ve been tol’ that before,” said the in- 
corrigible joker. “ Folks don’t take kindly to the 
idee of my havin’ sech sharp eyes, neither. I under- 
took to tell you a thing or two, Jase, some time ago 
’bout that Tom Hotchkiss; but ye wouldn’t see it 
with my eyes.” 

“ If I seen everything and everybody in the town 
the way you seen it, Walky, I’d get as twisted as a 
dumbed sas’fras root,” snarled Uncle Jason. 

“Ye wouldn’t ha’ been so twisted about Tom,” 
Walky said placidly. He was as thick-skinned as 
a walrus and the cut direct did not in the least 
trouble him. 

“ I tell ye, I ’member what that feller was when 
he was a boy,” he pursued. “ Bad blood, there — 
bad blood.” 

“By mighty!” ejaculated Uncle Jason. “ Cale 
Hotchkiss was as square a feller as ever walked on 
sole-leather. I’m glad he’s dead. If he’d lived to 
see his son turn out so bad ” 

“ ’Twarn’t Caleb Hotchkiss’ blood I was referrin’ 
to,” Walky struck in. “ Caleb merried one o’ them 
Pickberry gals over to Bowling. An’ you know well 
enough what them Pickberrys was. As for this 


I Told You So ” 37 

here Tom, he was as sly as a skunk-bear when he 
was a boy/’ 

For goodness’ sake ! ” interrupted Janice, hop- 
ing to divert the tide of Walky’s talk. ‘‘ What is a 
‘ skunk-bear *?” 

'' Wolverine,” explained her cousin quickly. 
“ And the meanest creature that ever got on a line 
of traps. Hey, Walky?” 

“ Now you’ve said it, boy,” agreed the express- 
man. “ An’ that remin’s me of one of the meanest 
things that Tom Hotchkiss done when he was a 
boy.” 

“ Oh, well ! ” grunted Uncle Jason, who evidently 
disliked the discussion of Tom’s short-comings. 

They say George Washington cut down his 
father’s favorite cherry tree; yet he grew up to be 
president.” 

‘‘ Huh ! but he didn’t lie about it — thafs why he 
got to be president,” said the astute Walkworthy. 
‘‘ And Tom Hotchkiss lied about this mean thing 
he done.” 

Wal ! let’s have it,” Mr. Day said, with a sigh. 

It’ll choke ye I can plainly see if ye ain’t allowed 
to unburden your soul.” 

Walky began to stuff his pipe out of Mr. Day’s 
tobacco sack that he had appropriated from the shelf 
beside the door. 

“Ye see,” he said, “ Tom worked for ol’ man 
Ketcham a while — him that run the dairy farm 


38 


The Mission of Janice Day 

over Middletown way. But Tom never did work 
long in one place when he was a boy. That oughter 
told ye something, Jase.’^ 

Mr. Day grunted. Marty said : 

“ Go on with your story, Walky. Who told you 
you was the law and the prophets ? ’’ 

I was prophet enough about how Tom Hotch- 
kiss was a-comin’ aout,” chuckled Walky. “ Wal ! 
howsomever, old Ketcham run quite a dairy for 
them days. He bought up all the neighbors’ milk, 
too, and made butter and cheese. I expect ’twould 
ha’ been called a crematory to-day.” 

“ Ho, ho ! ” shouted Marty. “ That’s a hot one. 
Creamery, you mean, Walky.” 

“ Oh, do I ? ” said the unruffled Mr. Dexter. 
“ Wal, mebbe I do. Anyhow, he stood Tom and 
his tricks quite a spell — ^he was slow to wrath, was 
old Ketcham, bein’ a Quaker by persuasion; but 
bimeby Tom got too much for him and he turned 
him away. Tom was a great practical joker — oh, 
yes! But he was one o’ them kind that gits mad 
when the joke’s turned on themselves. So he was 
sore on the Ketchams.” 

'' Huh! he ain’t the only one geared that-a-way,” 
put in Mr. Day. 

“No; but he was about the only feller I ever 
knowed that ’ud ha’ thunk up sech a mean way of 
gittin’ square with old Ketcham.” 

“What did he do?” demanded Marty, becom- 


“ I Told You So ” 


39 


ing impatient at the expressman's leisurely tale, 
while Aunt 'Mira got up and began to stir about the 
kitchen, clearing the supper table. She often con- 
fessed to Janice that it gave her legs “ the twidgets " 
to listen to one of Walky's long-drawn-out stories. 

‘‘ Why — he, he ! — 'twas funny, tubbesure. The 
old man stored his butter in a stone spring-haouse. 
The spring was under the floor and cooled the place 
nicely. Both ends of the buildin' was jest slats 'bout 
an inch apart, so's to let the air through but keep 
most critters aout. 

Now, jest about the time old man Ketcham got 
through with Tom Hotchkiss, Tom, he discovered 
there was a ol' she-skunk with a young fambly in 
the neighborhood. 'Tain't no trick a-tall to Tarn 
when a polecat is located near by, ye know; all ye 
gotter do, as the fellers says, is ter foller yer nose — 
haw! haw! haw! 

“ Tom was mad clean through when Mr. Ketcham 
turned him away. Didn’t take him long, I vum ! ter 
link up them skunks with his idea of vengeance — 
nossir!” Walky said reflectively. ‘‘And he per- 
ceeded to put his idee into practice." 

“ What did he do, Walky? " asked Marty again. 
“Ye might give us a hint." 

“ Oh, I'm gittin' to it," said the expressman 
placidly. “ He toled them skunks into the spring- 
haouse. That’s what he done.” 

“ How ? " asked Marty, now interested, while the 


\ 


40 The Mission of Janice Day 

other listeners expressed their several opinions of 
the young rascal's trick. 

“ Lard. A lard trail. Skunks love lard er any 
grease. Tom laid the trail to the spring-haouse and 
then yanked off two of the lower slats. Plenty room 
for the biggest skunk livin’ to git through. Then he 
chucked a lump of grease inside, after which he 
skun out." 

'' And what happened, Walky ? " Janice asked. 

“ Why, when ol' Miz’ Ketcham went aout to the 
spring-haouse in the morning, there was Miz’ Skunk 
an’ four skunk kittens camping in the middle of the 
floor. She seen ’em through the slats an’ didn’t 
darest open the door.’’ 

'' Couldn’t she frighten them out? ’’ asked Nelson. 

Schoolmaster ! ’’ said Walky, chuckling, “ I’m 
surprised at your ignerance. Ye sartain sure don’t 
know much about the nature of skunks.” 

“ I admit my failing,” Nelson said, smiling. 

I’ve never been much interested in skunk- 
ology.” 

“Ye might be — an’ with profit,” said Walky, 
more briskly. “ I understand their fur’s wuth 
more’n most animals ye kin trap nowadays. 

“ Howsomever, the skunk is ’bout the boldest crit- 
ter that runs wild. Let ’em alone and they’ll let you 
alone. But they ain’t afeard of nothin’ on two laigs 
or four — or that flies in the air, neither. When ye 
see a skunk in the path, go ’round it." 


I Told You So ” 41 

We do/* chuckled Marty. He’s got right of 
way.” 

An’ don’t never try to chase one or poke one — 
’nless ye have a mighty long pole,” said Walky Dex- 
ter. Miz’ Ketcham, she knowed that. The skunk 
an’ her four kittens was camped in that spring- 
haouse an’ they seemed to like it. No way of coaxin’ 
’em aout and there was two hunder’ pound o’ June 
butter in the place.” 

“ Oh! ” exclaimed Janice. 

‘‘ Dear suz ! ” was Aunt ’Mira’s comment. Why 
didn’t they shoot ’em?” 

“ Huh ! ” grunted Uncle Jason. 

“ The man ain’t never drawed the breath o’ life 
yet could shoot a skunk quick enough,” Walky de- 
clared. No, ma’am I And there was five in that 
bunch. Miz’ Ketcham was jest as mad as she 
could be. She knowed that if anything riled ’em 
while they was quartered in that spring-haouse ev’ry 
pound of butter stored there would be sp’ilt. 

While they was projectin’ around, and a-won- 
derin’ what to do about it, a little fice-dog they 
owned settled things for ’em — and settled it quick. 
He was a fool dog and he proberbly took old Lady 
Skunk for a tabbycat. Seein’ her inside the spring- 
haouse he nosed around till he found the openin’ 
she’d got in by. He squeezed himself in an’ then 
— wal, good-night! 

“ They heard the dog a ky-yi-ing and smelled the 


42 The Mission of Janice Day 

smoke of battle from afar — haw! haw! haw! 
Jefers-pelters ! ” ejaculated Walky, They tell me 
that after they’d burned all the butter an’ butter 
firkins an’ the hull inside of the spring-haouse — 
purgin’ by fire as the Good Book says — the odor 
still lingered. 

An’ that’s one o’ the tricks Tom Hotchkiss done. 
Lied about it, o’ course. Said he didn’t. But to 
them that was his cronies he boasted about it. I 
had my doubts of him when he come back to Polk- 
town, nobody knowed from where ; and I could ha’ 
told ye, Jase ” 

'‘Too late! too late!” groaned Mr. Day. “All 
you hind-sight prophets can’t do me no good.” 

It was a bitter cry, and Aunt ’Mira sniveled as 
she stood over the dish-pan. Marty shuffled heavily 
as he grabbed his cap and made his way toward the 
door. 

“ I’m goin’ over to the lib’ry for a book,” he ex- 
plained huskily, and went out. 

Janice and Nelson soon retired to the sitting room 
while the three older people carried on a desultory 
conversation for the next hour. Suddenly there 
came a tapping on the sitting room window by 
Nelson’s chair. He pulled aside the shade a little 
and glanced out. 

What he saw made him start suddenly to his feet. 
“ Who is it ? ” asked Janice, busy with the fancy- 
work in her lap. 


‘‘ I Told You So ” 


43 


‘‘ Somebody who evidently wishes to speak with 
me in private/’ Nelson told her with a smile. ‘‘ I’ll 
be right back.” 

He went out through the kitchen and found 
Marty standing in the yard — a very white-faced 
and trembling Marty quite unlike his usual self. 

What is it ? What has happened ? ” the school- 
master asked sharply. 

“ Oh, Mr. Haley ! I can’t tell her — I can’t let her 
know it.” 

“ Whom are you talking about — your mother ? ” 

‘‘ No. It’s Janice.” 

‘‘ What has happened to Janice? ” demanded Nel- 
son, his voice changing. 

‘‘ It’s her dad — it’s Uncle Brocky ! ” gasped 
Marty. “ It’s in to-day’s New York paper. I just 
happened to see it as they was putting it on the 
file. I got it here,” and the boy drew the folded 
newspaper from his pocket. 


CHAPTER V 


JANICE GOES HER WAY 

Come over to the garage/’ said Nelson Haley, 
seizing the boy by the wrist. “ Is it unlocked ? ” 

“ Yes,” gulped Marty. 

'' I can read it in the light of the side lamp of the 
car,” said the schoolmaster. 

His own voice was shaken. He knew that some- 
thing very serious must have occurred or Marty 
Day would not act in this manner. 

They hurried across the yard and Marty unbarred 
the garage door. Nobody in Polktown thought of 
locking any outbuilding, save possibly the corn-crib 
or the smoke-house. 

Marty closed the door tightly before Nelson 
scratched a match and fumbled for the latch of the 
kerosene side lamp of Janice’s automobile. In the 
yellow radiance of this he unfolded the newspaper 
Marty had seized at the public library. The school- 
master looked at once at the extreme right-hand 
column of the front page of the paper — the column 
in which the Mexican news was usually displayed. 
A sub-heading caught his eye almost instantly : 

44 


Janice Goes Her Way 45 

MORE AMERICANS BUTCHERED 

A great revolt had again broken out against the 
de facto government. It was spreading, the report 
said, hourly. In the Companos District the wires 
had been cut, but it was known that there had been 
much bloodshed there. Several of the former in- 
surrecto leaders who had recently gone over to the 
existing party in power at Mexico City, were re- 
ported assassinated, among them Juan Dicampa. 

‘‘ And he was Mr. Day’s friend — he served him 
well during the last uprising in that district! ” Nel- 
son ejaculated. 

“ That ain’t the worst. Read on,” breathed 
Marty. 

Great heavens! can it be possible?” whispered 
Nelson. 

The mines in the Companos District have all 
been seized by the insurrectos. The peons working 
them have been forced into the ranks of the revolu- 
tionists. Not an American has escaped from the 
district and several are known to have been killed. 
At the Alderice Mine, fourteen miles north of San 
Cristoval, it is said the superintendent, B. Day, has 
been wounded and is held prisoner.” 

“ Wh — what do you know about that? ” stuttered 
Marty. “ Uncle Brocky’s hurt and they won’t let 
him go.” 


46 


The Mission of Janice Day 

“ Hush! ” commanded Nelson. 

‘‘ Aw — ^there’s nobody to hear,” choked the boy. 
“ And how can we keep it from Janice? ” 

“ We must ! ” exclaimed Nelson. 

“Say, Nelson Haley! You got to be mighty 
smart to keep Janice from finding out every little 
thing. You know that. And she's always looking 
for something to happen to Uncle Brocky.” 

“ We can do it. We must do it,” responded the 
schoolmaster. 

Marty was round-eyed and unbelieving. “ Say ! 
you don’t know Janice yet,” he repeated with as- 
surance. “ She’s a mighty smart girl — the smartest 
girl in the whole of Polktown. Aw — well, you 
ought to know.” 

“ I don’t know how we are to do it — yet,” the 
schoolmaster agreed. “ We’ll just have to. When 
people have to do a thing, Marty, they do it nine 
times out of ten! ” 

“ Hi tunket ! ” gasped the boy. “ You tell me my 
part and I’ll help all right.” 

“ Come on, then. Stroll in naturally. Make be- 
lieve there is something up — some joke that we are 
going to keep Janice out of ” 

“ Joke ! ” groaned Marty. 

“ I tell you,” commanded Nelson hotly, “ we’ve 
got to keep this from her. Her father wounded — 
think of it ! ” 

“ Ain’t I thinking of it ? ” put in the boy. “ Uncle 


Janice Goes Her Way 47 

Brocky — that I never did see since I was a kid too 
small to remember him/' 

‘‘ Pull yourself together, old man,” said the 
schoolmaster with his arm over the boy's shoulder. 

Nelson's trust in him did much to enable Marty 
to brace up. He gulped down his sobs and drew his 
jacket sleeve across his eyes. You just tell me 
what to do,” he choked. 

‘‘ I don't know myself yet. I'll keep this paper. 
I'll leave it to you to divert the New York paper 
from the library. You can do that, for the post- 
master will give you the library mail if you’re there 
on time for it.” 

‘‘ I'll be there,” Marty declared. 

‘‘ We'll tell Walky ” 

“ Oh — Jehoshophat ! ” gasped Marty. He leaks 
like a sieve. Might’s well tell the town crier as 
tell Walky.” 

'' We’ll mend his leak,” the schoolmaster said 
grimly. ‘‘ Walky loves Janice. We'll easily shut 
his mouth. Perhaps we can warn other people so 
that no word will be let drop. I can learn, I sup- 
pose, who takes this paper.” 

‘‘ Oh, hookey ! ” groaned Marty suddenly. ‘‘ The 
hull town'll know it next Thursday if they don't 
before.” 

Why so?” 

“ That is the day the Middletown Courier comes 
out. They had a big piece in it about Uncle Brocky 


48 The Mission of Janice Day 

before. They’ll grab this story like a hungry dog 
does a bone. It’s news/^ 

“ You have a head on your shoulders, boy,” ad- 
mitted Nelson Haley, and all but groaned himself. 
He would not give way to despair. I’ll think about 
that. I’ll find some way of keeping the Courier 
out of town.” 

‘‘ And Janice riding right over there to school four 
days a week,” suggested Marty. 

“ I never thought of that,” muttered Nelson. 

’Most everybody takes the Courier here in Polk- 
town. An’, oh gee! there’s dad’s Ledger. She 
might get hold of that.” 

‘‘If you can’t stop that coming to the house you’re 
no good,” declared Nelson. 

“ Oh, I’ll stop it. Dad’ll have a fit though. He 
swears by the Ledger. But ma don’t care for nothin’ 
but the Fireside Favorite, and there won’t be any 
Mexican news in that.” 

“ We must be on the watch to keep every line of 
communication closed — to keep Janice ignorant of 
this at least until the facts are better known. Per- 
haps they will be disproved. I’ll write to-night to 
Washington. And you get me the name of that 
friend of Mr. Broxton Day’s down there on the 
Border who communicated with Janice once before 
when it looked as though your uncle was lost. Re- 
member ? ” 

“ Sure ! ” agreed Marty. 


49 


Janice Goes Her Way 

“ ril tell Walky to-night. You find a chance to 
speak to your father and mother. Be sure Janice 
doesn’t hear you.” 

“Some job!” 

“Well, it’s our job. Understand?” Nelson said 
earnestly. 

“ I’m with you, Mr. Haley,” the boy responded, 
quite recovered from his first disturbance of mind. 
“ You can bank on me.” 

“Great boy!” Nelson said, patting him on the 
shoulder again. “Janice has done so much — so 
much for the town, so much for us all ! We should 
be able to do something to secure her peace of 
mind, Marty.” 

“ Hi tunket ! I believe you, Mr. Haley.” 

“ Then, come on ! It may prove to be a false 
alarm as before. We’ll save her all the anxiety 
possible.” 

“ Sure we will ! ” agreed the boy again with 
emphasis. 

They re-entered the house ; Marty was even able 
to call up a giggle and winked broadly at Nelson as 
he hung up his hat and looked up the parchesi board 
and the rest of the outfit for that popular game. 

“ What’s a-goin’ on now ’twixt you two boys ? ” 
asked Aunt Almira comfortably, for she looked 
upon Nelson, when he came to the house, as she 
would had he been Marty’s brother. “ D’ye know 
what’s up, Janice?” 


50 


The Mission of Janice Day 

“ I haven’t an idea,” her niece said happily. ‘‘ I 
fancy Marty has a joke on somebody.” 

“‘Joke!’” repeated her cousin in such an un- 
consciously tragic tone that the schoolmaster 
hastened to say: 

“ He thinks he is going to beat Walky playing 
parchesi. Come on, Walky. Show him you have 
all your wits about you.” 

“ I’m dumbed if I don’t ! ” declared Mr. Dexter, 
laying aside his pipe to cool. “ Who else is a-goin’ 
to play? ” 

“ Not I,” said Janice. “ Christmas is coming and 
preparedness is my motto.” 

“ I want ma to play then,” Marty said. “ She 
an’ I’ll play partners and I bet we beat Mr. Haley 
and Walky out o’ their boots.” 

“ Sakes alive, child I you don’t want me to play, 
do ye? ” chuckled Aunt ’Mira. “ Your father says 
I ain’t got head enough for any game — ^an’ I guess 
he’s right.” 

“ I’ll risk ye,” said her son, and they really had 
a very hilarious game while Janice sewed placidly 
and Uncle Jason looked on, forgetting for the time 
some of the burden on his mind. 

“ I’ll go along with you, Walky,” the schoolmaster 
said when the game broke up and it was time for the 
callers to go. “ I can cut through your back lots to 
High Street and reach Mrs. Beaseley’s quite as easily 
as by the other route.” 


51 


Janice Goes Her Way 

Proud to hev ye/’ said Walky. “ Good-night, 
folks. That ’pears to be a funny lookin’ necktie 
you’re knitting for Mr. Haley, Janice.” 

“ It’s not a necktie and it’s not for Nelson,” 
Janice replied, flushing a little and quickly hiding 
the fleecy article on which she had been working. 

‘‘ Oh well,” chuckled Walky, ‘‘ I don’t ’spect we’ve 
got airy right to have eyes in our heads even as 
long before Christmas as this time. Good-night, 
everybody.” 

He went out. Nelson, although he lingered to 
say something in a low tone to Janice, was right 
behind the expressman. He went up Hillside 
Avenue with Walky talking to him seriously. 

Marty became woefully nervous when the family 
was left alone. He went to the water pail half a 
dozen times. He put out the cat; then let her in 
again it seemed just for the purpose of shooing her 
out once more. 

Janice, quite unconscious of her cousin’s disturb- 
ance of mind, finally put away her work and took up 
her candle. 

“ Good-night, all ! ” she said, yawning openly. 
She kissed her uncle’s cheek, and Aunt ’Mira re- 
turned with warmth the caress with which she was 
favored. Night, Marty.” 

“ Huh ! ” the boy said huskily, am I a step- 
child ? Don’t I ever get kissed no more ? ” 

“ Why, Marty Day ! ” cried Janice, laughing. ‘‘ A 


52 The Mission of Janice Day 

great big boy like you ! I thought you abhorred such 
‘ girlie ’ ways.” 

Sometimes I do,” he said, approaching her 
boldly. But to-night ” 

He seized her like a young bear and kissed her 
fiercely. You’re — you’re a mighty nice girl, Janice, 
if you are only my cousin,” he said, averting his 
eyes. 

She laughed and patted his cheek lightly. Then 
carrying the lighted candle she went up to bed with 
a parting nod and smile to her uncle and aunt. 

Marty stood close to the stair door and listened 
at the crack till he was sure she had entered her 
own room and closed her door. His mother asked 
wonderingly : 

‘‘ What ever is the matter o’ you, Marty Day ? 
I never see your beat.” 

‘‘ Sh ! ” the boy said, his face suddenly displaying 
all the fear and anxiety he had been hiding. 

His father took his bedtime pipe from his lips and 
stared. What ever is it’s got you? ” he asked. 

The boy leaned over the table. Like conspirators, 
with their heads close together, the three talked in 
whispers. After Aunt Almira’s first involuntary 
cry of horror, which she smothered at once, their 
voices never reached a key that could have made 
them audible ten feet away. 

Meanwhile the schoolmaster and Walky Dexter 
were in close consultation. Nelson had made no 


53 


Janice Goes Her Way 

mistake when he took the expressman into the plot. 
Walky was by nature a chatterer and a gossip, but 
he would have cut off his right hand rather than 
hurt Janice Day. While Janice made ready for 
bed plans were forming to hide from her as long 
as possible — until the newspaper story could be 
verified at least — that which had come over the 
telegraph wires from Mexico. 

The girl was less troubled by fears for her 
father’s safety than she had been for a long time. 
It was of Uncle Jason’s trouble she thought. And 
she was quite sure her father would be able to help 
his brother considerably in straightening out the 
difficulty that confronted Jason Day. 

It had been figured out just what it would cost to 
renew the notes and pay interest on them, if the 
bank would allow Mr. Day to do that. Over seven 
hundred dollars per year! An enormous sum for 
Uncle Jason to contemplate — while the principal 
would hang over him like a threatening cloud. The 
interest money alone was more than he could easily 
earn over and above the family’s living expenses. 

He had got into the toils of the cunning Hotch- 
kiss through lending the storekeeper a small sum at 
eight per cent, in the beginning and being paid 
promptly. The bank carried the notes for six per 
cent, of course. 

The morrow was Sunday. Janice went her usual 
calm way. People seemed rather nicer to her than 


54 The Mission of Janice Day 

usual, but their attitude did not arouse her sus- 
picions in the least. At church there seemed to be 
more groups than usual both before and after 
service who whispered together. Mr. Middler, 
the pastor, who loved Janice as he might his own 
daughter, added a warmer pressure to his hand- 
clasp. Mrs. Middler kissed her several times, 
and Janice thought with some surprise that the af- 
fectionate woman had been crying. Elder Con- 
cannon, that stern and bewhiskered patriarch 
who had once looked upon Janice Day and her 
ideas as the very leaven of unrighteousness in the 
community, strode over to the girl and rested his 
hands upon her shoulders to make her look up at 
him. 

‘‘ Ha ! ” he said. ‘‘ Just as brave as ever, are you? 
You're not fearing the future, my girl ? " 

How can I when the past has been so lovely? " 
she asked him soberly. 

‘‘ Ha ! " and he wagged his head. ‘‘ So that's the 
way the past has seemed to you, eh? " 

He said no more; but Janice wondered what the 
matter was with Elder Concannon. He was so 
seldom demonstrative. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE SHADOW OF COMING EVENTS 

Nelson Haley was not at church that Sunday. 
He was seen to ride away with Walky Dexter early 
in the morning and they took the lower Middletown 
road. When they returned late in the afternoon 
they assured each other that they had accomplished 
much. 

They had prepared the way for Janice when she 
should go to the seminary on Monday — and more. 
It seemed to Janice that week as though the girls 
had never before been so nice to her. One of the 
instructors kept her in the office it was true when 
she arrived on Monday, over a really trivial matter, 
while the principal was addressing the student body ; 
but the subject of the principal’s address did not 
interest Janice, she learned later, she being only a 
day pupil. In fact she was merely taking a post- 
graduate course in certain studies. 

Nor did she imagine that the editor of the Mid- 
dletown Courier went to his office that Monday 
morning and killed ” a two-column news feature 
he had planned for the front page, as well as an 
66 


56 The Mission of Janice Day 

editorial and a certain “ intimate note ’’of neighbor- 
hood gossip under the heading of ‘‘ Polktown Activi- 
ties.” 

Nelson Haley was not omnipotent. He could not 
reach everybody or foretell all combinations of 
events that might reveal to Janice her father’s peril. 
But he had done his best. The Weekly Courier 
would not mention Mexican matters in its Thurs- 
day’s issue. Meanwhile Nelson, with Uncle Jason 
and Mr. Middler, the pastor of the Polktown Union 
Church, as a self-appointed committee, endeavored 
to get the truth from the Border regarding the up- 
rising in the Companos District and particularly the 
facts of the situation at the Alderdice Mine. 

Janice Day’s cheerfulness was almost uncanny. 
She had determined to be cheerful and optimistic 
about the Day homestead because she knew that her 
uncle and aunt were so cast down. She was not at 
all surprised therefore by their frequently solemn 
countenances and their whispering in corners to- 
gether. 

When she found Aunt ’Mira in tears she com- 
forted her, believing that it was because of her 
husband’s troubles that the woman wept. That 
Marty should wear a cloud of gloom most of the 
time merely proved how deeply the boy had been 
stirred by his father’s trouble. 

If Uncle Jason was distrait was it any wonder? 
His lawyer could give him little comfort, Janice 


The Shadow of Coming Events 57 

understood, regarding the settlement of the abscond- 
ing storekeeper’s notes. A search for assets was 
being made ; but it looked as though Tom Hotchkiss 
had intended to be dishonest from the start and had 
laid all his plans accordingly and with judgment 
worthy of a better cause. 

Already attempts were being made to find the 
absent storekeeper. It was suspected that he had 
gone to Canada. If he remained there it might be 
possible to lay hands upon him, for his act consti- 
tuted a felony and he could be extradited. 

‘‘ Wherever he’s gone,” said Uncle Jason 
gloomily, ‘‘ he’s gone fast and he’s gone fur. No 
doubt o’ that. And ’nless he lost the money in 
speculation or the like, he’s probably hid it where 
we can’t find it. It looks like we wouldn’t be able 
to lay our ban’s on him before the first note goes to 
protest.” 

Being so sure of her father’s good judgment, 
his willingness and his ability to help Uncle Jason, 
Janice Day’s heart was still free from any deeper 
care as the days went by. As she had told Elder 
Concannon, the past had been so lovely to her, why 
should she fear the future? 

Marty had been urged to remain at school for the 
present; but the boy was in earnest when he said 
he was willing and ready to do his share toward the 
support of the family. Indeed, he obtained a place 
in Bartlett's store to work on the books and write 


58 The Mission of Janice Day- 

out statements every day after school and until late 
on Saturday evenings. This saved his self-respect, 
as he felt, and was not a bad thing for him at all. 
He was to give his mother the four dollars a week 
Mr. Partlett promised him. 

A letter from Broxton Day (the last Janice was 
destined to receive from her father for a long time, 
did she but know it) arrived early in the week fol- 
lowing the inception of the conspiracy for Janice's 
peace of mind. It was a cheerful, jolly letter and the 
girl had it tucked in the bosom of her blouse when 
she halted her car on the way back from Middle- 
town on Wednesday afternoon before Hopewell 
Drugg’s store. 

When Janice opened the store door the place 
was empty; but from the rear came the quavering 
notes of a violin. Being drawn from the wailing 
strings was a new harmony — new, that is, for Hope- 
well Drugg. He was fond of the old tunes ; but for 
the most part his musical tastes ran to cheerful 
ballads or love songs. 

Janice, tiptoeing quietly across the shop floor, 
listened with a rather wistful little smile upon her 
lips. Like a big bee Hopewell Drugg was humming 
the words of the song so popular forty years ago 
when sung by a certain silver-voiced singer: 

‘‘ ‘ Rock-a-bye, baby, on the tree top. 

When the wind blows the cradle will rock. 


The Shadow of Coming Events 59 

If the bough breaks the cradle will fall; 

Down will come cradle, baby and all ! 

Then, it's rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, mother is 
near ; 

And it’s rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, nothing to 
fear. 

If the bough breaks the cradle will fall; 

Down will come cradle, baby and all ! ’ ” 

‘‘Oh, Mr. Drugg!” murmured Janice, coming 
into the back room where the bespectacled store- 
keeper was playing. “ That is so pretty ! And the 
time and rhythm are just perfect, aren’t they? ” 

“How-do, Miss Janice?” he said, reddening al- 
most boyishly. “ Thank you.” 

“ Is Miss ’Rill inside? ” Janice asked, for it was 
difficult to remember to call the storekeeper’s wife 
by any name but that to which she had responded 
for so many years while she taught the Polktown 
ungraded school. 

“ You’ll find her there,” said Hopewell with a 
gesture of his bow. “ Go right in — do.” 

Janice ran across the open porch and into the sit- 
ting room. The light-haired and pink-cheeked little 
woman, who sat sewing by the table, looked up with 
lips parted for a startled cry. The tiny garment with 
which she had been busily and so happily engaged 
was covered flutteringly by her apron while a faint 
flush dyed her cheeks. 


60 


The Mission of Janice Day 

Oh! is it you, Janice dear? ” she said and in a 
relieved tone. 

“ ’Tis I, honey,” cried the girl, running around 
back of her. She stooped and kissed the flushed 
cheek — oh I so tenderly — dropping into ’Rill’s lap a 
little parcel. 

“ What is it ? For ? ” queried the storekeeper’s 
wife, twitching briskly at the knotted string of 
Janice’s parcel. ‘‘ You are always bringing me 
some gift, dear girl.” 

‘‘ But — but this isn’t exactly for you,” Janice 
said with some hesitation. 

‘"No?” She unwrapped the tissue covering. 
Then : Oh, Janice ! how sweet! ” She held up the 
little fleecy cap of Janice’s own knitting before her 
eyes in which the tears trembled. “ And bootees, 
too ! You darling ! ” 

Janice sat down and they talked happily. 

Since ’Rill Scattergood and Hopewell Drugg had 
married, their life together — save for a few weeks 
— had been very happy. And now a greater and 
holier happiness was on the way to them. Sharing 
the secret was one of the sweetest experiences that 
had ever come into Janice Day’s life. 

‘‘ I must put these away,” ’Rill said, smil- 
ing. “ Little Lottie will soon be home from 
school.” 

No, work away,” Janice said, rising. ‘‘ I 
promised Lottie a ride in my car. I’ll meet her 


The Shadow of Coming Events 61 

before she comes in. I suppose she is as inquisitive 
as a magpie ? ’’ 

“ Just about/’ was the response. ‘‘ The dear 
child ! ” 

It was as Janice descended the broad store steps 
that little Lottie appeared. And not so little now. 
Her father declared she was “ growing like a weed.” 

She caught sight of Janice and ran, delighted, 
toward her, shouting a greeting : 

‘‘ Oh, Janice Day! My Janice Day! May I ride 
with you? ” 

She had great, violet eyes and a mane of hair 
that was now becoming tawny — darkening as she 
grew older. Her vivid face and dancing feet made 
Lottie seem a fairylike little person, a veritable ray 
of sunshine, in Hopewell Drugg’s dim old store. 

During the long time in which she had suffered 
blindness and when her hearing and speech both 
threatened to leave the child, Lottie had flitted about 
almost uncannily. Even now she retained the habit 
of shutting her eyes and seeing ” with the tips 
of her fingers — that more than natural sense that is 
vouchsafed those who are blind. 

“ See my new coat ! Isn’t it pretty and blue ? 
Papa sent to Boston for it. And ’see my pretty 
blue beads ? Mamma ’Rill gave them to me. Aren’t 
they lovely ? ” crowed Lottie. 

Mrs. Scattergood came along the flagstone walk 
in season to hear this. 


62 


The Mission of Janice Day 

'' Oh, yes ! Oh, yes ! she sniffed. '' All very 
fine, I dessay. Fine feathers make fine birds, Fve 
heard.’' 

“ And do ugly feathers make ugly birds ? ” asked 
Lottie wonderingly. 

‘‘ Never you mind ! never you mind ! ” said the 
tart old woman, going up the store steps. Your 
nose will soon be out o’ joint, young lady.” 

Lottie felt her pretty nose and looked at Janice 
seriously. 

“ Do — do you s’pose it will ? ” she queried. 

Do I suppose what will ? ” the older girl asked, 
preparing to start the car. 

“ My nose.” 

“ What about your nose ? ” 

“ Will it be put out of joint? It doesn’t feel so.” 

Janice wanted to laugh. Then she felt like crying 
a little. But finally she became angry with the ill- 
natured Mrs. Scattergood. The latter had ever been 
a carping critic of the Drugg household — particu- 
larly since her daughter had married her old-time 
sweetheart quite against Mrs. Scattergood’s wishes. 

“ Don’t worry about your pretty nose, Lottie,” 
Janice said rather gruffly. ‘‘ Nothing she can say 
will put it out of joint.” 


CHAPTER VII 


ECHOES 

‘‘ Let^s go down to the cove, Janice Day, and 
call on my echo,” Lottie said eagerly. ** Do you 
know, I haven^t been there for ever so long. My 
echo must be awfully lonely with nobody to shout 
to him any more.” 

If you like,” the older girl said smilingly, we 
will go there first.” 

Oh, yes!” 

Janice turned the car skillfully in the narrow 
street. She could even safely wave her hand to 
Mrs. Beaseley who looked from her sitting room 
window across the street, where Nelson Haley 
boarded. 

There were other people who waved to Janice, or 
who spoke to her, as the car rolled down the hill. 
Here was Mr. Cross Moore wheeling his invalid 
wife in her chair around and around the smooth, 
graveled walks of their garden. Janice stopped her 
car and shut off the engine here. 

‘‘ Good-day, Mrs. Moore. How are you feeling 
this lovely weather? ” Janice asked. 

“ Ha ! fooling away your time same^s usual, are 
63 


64 


The Mission of Janice Day 

you? ” snapped the invalid, disapproval written large 
on her querulous features. 

She's feeling pretty well, for her," Mr. Moore 
said placidly. “ But we hate to see winter coming. 
Then she can't get out of doors so much." 

‘‘ I wish you would let me take you out in the car 
sometimes, Mrs. Moore," Janice said, smiling. 

You could see the country while it is so beautiful." 

“ Huh ! risk my neck and bones bein' driven about 
in one o’ them things by a silly girl? Not much! " 

‘‘ I guess she'd feel safer if I was shoofer,” said 
Cross Moore grimly. ‘‘ And I've a mind to get one 
o' them things next year.” 

‘‘You will not, Cross Moore!" cried his wife, 
who made it a practice to oppose every suggestion 
— verbally, at least. 

“ Oh, I dunno,” said the man cheerfully. “ You 
know I've shoofered you in this here chair for many 
a year without an accident. I reckon I could gradu- 
ate to an automobile seat pretty easy." 

“Why! it’s just as e-asy to learn," Janice said, 
smiling. “ And think how far and how quickly you 
could go, Mrs. Moore.” 

“ Huh ! Why should I wish to go far or quick — 
me that ain't walked right for ten years? I've got 
all over sech desires." 

“ Wait till you have tried it," Janice cried as she 
touched the self-starter and the engine began to 
purr again. 


Echoes 


65 


‘‘Now, ain't that mighty nice, Mother?" they 
heard Cross Moore say to the fretful woman. “ To 
go spinning about the old roads around Polktown 
would do you good." 

“ Oh, you got more uses for your money. Cross 
Moore, than flitterin' it away on sech things. If 
you spent money as careless as them Days does, — 
look at the hole Jase Day is into right now — you^d 
be ‘ Owin' ' Moore, 'stead o' Cross Moore." 

“ Do you know," Lottie said to Janice as they 
drove on, “ I think Miz' Cross Moore would be 
lots happier if — ^maybe — she had an echo." 

“ An echo ? " 

“ Yes," the child said, nodding her head. “ Like 
me. You know, I should have been awfully lone- 
some, and maybe as short-tempered as she is, if I 
couldn't have talked to my echo." 

“ Why? " Janice asked curiously, for the philoso- 
phy of the little girl interested her. 

‘‘ Why," Lottie said, still speaking seriously, my 
echo was worse off than I was. Yes it was. It 
couldn't get away from where it was — not even to 
fly across the cove — unless I told it to. It had to 
stay right there in the pine woods on Pine Point. 
But even while I was blind I could find my way 
about." 

“ Very true," agreed Janice, likewise serious. 
“ The echo is a poor little prisoner." 

“ So it is ! so it is ! " laughed Lottie gayly, for 


66 The Mission of Janice Day 

these queer little imaginings and fancies were part of 
her very nature. Then she grew grave once more. 

You ’member how I went to look for it that time, 
and it snowed so hard, and Mr. Nelson Haley came 
to find me? He found me, but I never did find 
out just where that echo lived. I was ’most afraid 
it had gone for good, but it was there yet the last 
time I was down here.” 

While she was speaking the car ran down to the 
shore of Pine Cove at a beautiful but rather retired 
spot with an old fish-house and disused wharf in 
the foreground and, across the placid pool, the shel- 
tering arm of Pine Point, thickly grown with tall 
pines. Against the wall of the pine wood Lottie’s 
voice echoed back to her with almost uncanny 
distinctness as she stood in her old place on the 
wharf. 

” He-a ! he-a ! he-a ! ” she shouted shrilly and 
sweetly ; and back to her came the prompt echo : 

‘‘ ’E-a! ’e-a! ’e-a!” 

See ! he’s there yet,” she cried, turning to Janice. 
‘‘ Come up here, Janice, and see if he’ll answer you. 
Mr. Haley says there are echoes everywhere; but I 
don’t believe there is a single one as nice as mine.” 

Janice came, laughing. “What shall I say to 
your friend ? ” she asked. 

“ Oh ! you must not call what I do, of course. 
You shout somebody’s name — somebody you love,” 
the child advised. 


Echoes 67 

Instantly Janice opened her lips and expelled 
toward the wooded point : ‘‘ Nelson ! ” 

‘‘ ’Elson ! ” shot back the echo. 

‘‘Of course,” cried Lottie, dancing up and down 
in her satisfaction. “ He knows Mr. Haley. But 
shout somebody’s name he doesn’t know.” 

“ Here comes Mr. Thomas Drew’s sloop, Lottie,” 
Janice said as the big sailing vessel on which she had 
several times sailed on fishing excursions shot into 
the cove before a favoring wind. 

“ Oh ! how pretty ! ” cried the little girl. “ And 
what a big sail. He’s going to drop anchor where 
he usually does — see ! ” 

The sloop swept majestically between the old 
wharf and the pine wood where the echo “ lived.” 

“ Now, Janice ! ” urged Lottie, “ shout again. 
Call a name my echo doesn’t know.” 

And Janice, still smiling, cried aloud: 

“ Daddy! Daddy!” 

No repetition of the call came back from the wall 
of pine wood. Lottie seized her friend’s hand 
almost in fear. 

“ Oh ! he doesn’t answer ! He doesn’t know your 
father, Janice Day.” Then, awestruck, she put a 
question that stabbed Janice to the quick: “ Do — do 
you suppose anything real had has happened to your 
father ’way down there in Mexico ? ” 

Afterwards, Janice realized that the big sail of the 
sloop, flattened as it crossed between the wharf and 


68 The Mission of Janice Day 

the distant wood, had caught her voice and held it, 
echoless. Nevertheless the odd occurrence engen- 
dered in her heart a fear of impending peril. She 
began to worry again about Broxton Day. She 
counted the days that must elapse before she could 
possibly hear from her father in reply to the letter 
she had written about her Uncle Jason’s difficulties. 

The Day homestead on Hillside Avenue no longer 
housed a happy and contented family. It grew very 
difficult for Janice, even, to be cheerful. And Marty 
positively seemed to have lost his whistle. Janice 
tried her best to don a sprightly air ; but she observed 
her uncle and aunt and Marty sometimes whispering 
together and watching her; and this made her feel 
uncomfortable. 

“ Daddy ” usually wrote his beloved daughter a 
weekly letter. Sometimes it was delayed a day or 
so because the ore train was delayed out of Alder- 
dice to San Cristoval. So, when the expected letter 
did not arrive with the maximum of speed Janice 
was patient. 

I just won’t let that old echo foolishness get on 
my nerves,” she told herself firmly. “ I am not 
superstitious — I won’t be ! ” 

It was hard to raise the spirits of the family ; but 
the greater the effort she put forth to that end the 
more she, herself, was helped. She could not really 
understand what kept those about her so down- 
hearted. The bank people seemed willing to give 


Echoes 


69 


Uncle Jason all the leeway possible in settling the 
aifairs of the absconded Tom Hotchkiss. Janice had 
no idea her relatives were hiding a secret from her, 
and all of them felt it the very hardest task they 
had ever undertaken. 

Of course, in the general news from Mexico Mr. 
Day’s plight caused little comment in the daily press. 
Mexican troubles had continued for so long that 
the American public considered it an old story. Mr. 
Day was only one of hundreds of courageous 
Americans who felt as though they must stay by 
their business in the embattled country, despite 
Washington’s warning to them to get out of the 
danger zone. 

And now, it seemed, Janice’s father had paid the 
toll for heeding his own venturesome spirit. All the 
information Nelson, Mr. Middler, and Uncle Jason 
had been able to gather from all sources pointed to 
the truth of the first report of the situation in the 
Companos District. 

Mr. Day was wounded; and so sorely that his 
escaping laborers could not take him away from 
the mine when they were driven forth by the insur- 
rectos. This was the final news Janice’s friends had 
obtained from the Border, and now they did not 
know what to do next. Successfully keeping the 
story of her father’s peril from the girl was not 
enough. How to reach and bring Mr. Day out of 
Mexico was a problem that balked Janice’s friends. 


70 The Mission of Janice Day 

Indeed, even to communicate with the wounded man 
was impossible. It was reported that, although San 
Cristoval had been retaken by the troops of the 
de facto government of Mexico, the Alderdice and 
other mines in the Companos District were in the 
hands of the rebel party. 

Janice began to miss Nelson Haley’s frequent 
calls. He had been coming to the Day house several 
evenings during the week of late; and although he 
offered the perfectly sound excuse of extra school 
work, the girl missed him. To tell the truth Nelson 
shrank from being in Janice’s company. He had 
turned coward ! Although he was the first to sug- 
gest keeping Mr. Broxton Day’s peril secret from 
his daughter, now Nelson feared all the time that in 
some way the truth would come to the surface. The 
conspirators walked upon a volcano that might at 
any moment break out and overwhelm them. And 
what would Janice do or say, when this eruption 
occurred? That query troubled the schoolmaster a 
great deal. 

Naturally of a perfectly frank nature, the situa- 
tion was bound to irk his mind ceaselessly. Marty 
and his parents feared a sudden revelation of the 
truth, too ; so that every knock on the kitchen door 
during an evening gave each of the three a sharp 
and distinct shock. 

One evening Marty heard somebody drive into the 
yard after supper and he ran hurriedly to open the 


Echoes 


71 


porch door. He was always expecting to have to 
head off some person not in the secret who would 
appear with the news of Mr. Broxton Day’s state. 

Who is it, Marty? ” shrilled his equally anxious 
mother at the crack of the door. 

‘‘Hi tunket!” ejaculated the boy, “ ’tlooks like 
— why, it is! It’s Elder Concannon. What’s he 
want here? ” 

“ Never you mind. Go out and hitch his horse 
in the shelter, and tell him to come right in,” ordered 
Aunt ’Mira. “ Dear me I where’s your manners, 
Marty Day ? ” 

“ Well, he's safe enough,” muttered Marty, start- 
ing for the shed. 


CHAPTER VIII 


LOTTIE SEEKS A FRIEND 

Elder Concannon came in apparently in a cheer- 
ful mood. He was not a frequent caller at the Day 
house ; he never had been, indeed. But he liked to 
play a game of checkers with Janice, whom he con- 
sidered quite a scientific player for a young person. 

‘‘ I drove around by Brother Middler’s on an 
errand — church business,’^ explained the elder; but 
he wasn’t at home. Gone over to Bowling to marry 
a couple.” 

‘‘Who air they?” asked Aunt ’Mira, at once 
interested. 

“ Every married woman is deeply int’ rested in 
ev’ry other woman’s marriage,” Uncle Jason de- 
clared. “ Havin’ got one poor man inter captivity 
she’s hopin’ all her sisters’ll have as good luck. 
Who is the poor feller that’s got to do penance for 
his sins. Elder ? ” 

“ I don’t see but you are both equally int’ rested, 
Brother Day,” chuckled the elder. “ It’s Sam 
Holder and Susie Pickberry.” 

“ Another of them Pickberry gals gittin’ merried, 
eh?” ejaculated Aunt ’Mira. 

73 


Lottie Seeks a Friend 


73 


Well, there are a lot of them to get married,’’ 
the elder said. “ All the Pickberrys had big fami- 
lies.” 

‘‘ And none of ’em much good,” growled Uncle 
Jason. 

That may be,” agreed the elder. ‘‘ It does seem 
as though ’bout the only command in the Scriptures 
that any of ’em knew, was that one about ‘ increase 
and multiply and fill the earth.’ And they are given 
to marrying young,” pursued the elder reflectively. 
“ This Sue is a bouncing big gal ; but she’s barely 
sixteen year old.” 

“ Hardly sixteen! ” exclaimed Janice. 

“ Cricky I ” was Marty’s comment, he having come 
in after blanketing the elder’s colt. You’re get- 
ting to be an old maid, Janice, ’cordin’ to that. 
You’d better stir about and look yourself up a hus- 
band ’fore they put you on the shelf.” 

Janice looked into his freckled face reflectively. 

I’ve sometimes thought it was too bad they won’t 
let first cousins marry, Marty,” she said. 

‘‘ They do, Janice, except in a few of the States,” 
observed Elder Concannon, looking at the girl until 
she blushed as rosily as had Marty. 

As the laugh at this subsided, the elder went on : 

Those Pickberrys are intermarried so that they 
don’t know the degrees of cousin any more. Why, 
this Susie’s father and mother was closly related. 
I remember, for I married them.” 


74 


The Mission of Janice Day 

“ I suppose/^ put in Aunt ’Mira, Mr. Middler 
must make quite a bit out o’ his merriage fees. He’s 
been havin’ a string of ’em lately.” 

The elder fairly snorted and his beard seemed to 
bristle. 

That’s the way with all you folks,” he said, 
plain disgust in his tone. Because a minister don’t 
work with his hands you say he must make his livin’ 
easy. And you calculate him makin’ from five to 
twenty dollars ev’ry time a bridal couple raps on his 
door. Huh ! I’ve had the groom borrow money of 
me before he got out o’ the house.” 

Marty giggled. That girl certain sure got a hot 
one, then. If he’d got the girl without money, I 
should think he’d calculated to keep her without 
money.” 

Elder Concannon was laughing reflectively. 

Do you remember old Deacon Blodgett, Jason? ” 

“Huh?” grunted Mr. Day. “Not very well. 
But I remember his darter — she’t taught the school 
here. I went to school to her myself for a while. 
And a right .s^-vere old maid she was.” 

“ Yes. Beulah Blodgett was severe,” agreed the 
elder, his eyes still twinkling. 

“ She used to wallop the boys somethin’ awful,” 
added Uncle Jason, rubbing his homy palm on his 
trouser leg and then looking at it as though the sting 
of Miss Blodgett’s ruler had not even at this late day 
entirely departed from his memory. 


Lottie Seeks a Friend 75 

'' I remember/' agreed the elder. Not many 
ever got the start of Beulah Blodgett." 

Only Cale Hotchkiss." Uncle Jason halted in 
his speech and a positive grimace of pain seized upon 
his features for the moment. ‘‘ Oh, well ! Caleb 
wasn’t like his son turned out to be, ye know," he 
muttered. 

True enough," said the elder, with sympathy in 
his tone. 

'' Speakin' of Cale and Miss Blodgett," Mr. Day 
hurried to add, ‘‘ you know Cale was a great feller 
for rhyming — makin’ po’try, you know. Why, he 
had lots o' pieces printed in the ‘ Poet's Corner ' of 
the Middletown Courier. Mostly about folks that 
had died, you know. 

Howsomever, Cale got cotched once in school 
writin’ po’try. Miss Blodgett come up behind him, 
looked over his shoulder, and had him out ‘ on the 
line ' purty prompt. She told him school was no 
place for sech as that. She had a fierce eye an' a 
arm like a blacksmith," Uncle Jason continued. 
“ She'd stand on the aidge of her platform and how 
she would bring down her ruler on a feller's hand ! 
Whew ! 

Well, this pertic’lar time she says to Cale Hotch- 
kiss: ‘You're sech a smartie at makin' up rhymes, 
make one now b'fore I hit ye. Hold out your hand ! ' 
And by ginger ! " chuckled Uncle Jason, “ he done 
it." 


76 


The Mission of Janice Day 

“ What did he say, Dad ? ’’ asked Marty, eager for 
the particulars of any mischief. 

Cale sings out : 

“ ‘ Here I stand before Miss Blodgett; 

She^s goin’ to strike an’ I’m goin’ to dodge it ! ’ ” 

The elder joined in the laughter over this old joke 
quite as heartily as anybody; but he had not for- 
gotten his own story that had been side-tracked by 
Uncle Jason’s reminiscence. 

“ Her father. Deacon Hiram Blodgett, was my 
senior deacon when I first came to Polktown 
Church,” Elder Concannon said. “ He was a good 
man and a just. But like most folks outside the 
ministry he depreciated the work performed by the 
pastor of a church like this one at Polktown, con- 
sidering that ' he made his money easy.’ 

I — I had a growing family then, and increasing 
expenses,” said the elder, with a little flutter in his 
voice that was something Janice had never heard 
before, and she looked at him with amazement. 
Elder Concannon was not at all given to timidity; 
but there seemed right here a hesitation in his man- 
ner and in his voice. 

“ Well, anyhow,” he began again, I thought 
I needed an increase in my salary of a hundred 
dollars a year and I talked to Deacon Blodgett about 
it. He hemmed and hawed. He hated to give up 


Lottie Seeks a Friend 77 

church money just as he hated to give up his own, 
if he could save it. 

“ He put up the same claim as Mrs. Day did just 
now, regarding marriage fees. I allow I had more 
marriages to perform and traveled farther and got 
less for them than any minister who ever came into 
these mountains,^’ and the elder smiled grimly. 
‘‘ However, the deacon got quite warm about it. 

‘‘ ‘ I tell you,’ he says to me, ‘ even if they don’t 
amount but to two dollars a ceremony, you’ve made 
this year over and above your salary agreed upon, 
the hundred dollars you claim to need.’ 

“ It made me angry. It r’iled me in a most 
worldly way, I do allow,” sighed the elder. ‘‘ I 
guess the old Adam was roused in me. I had this 
Jim Pickberry and ’Mandy Whipple to marry that 
very night and I knew about what sort of folks they 
were. 

‘ Deacon Bloodgett,’ I said, ‘ will you give me 
two dollars for my next marriage fee ? ’ 

“ ‘ Surely I will,’ says he, for he was always on 
the lookout for a shrewd bargain. 

“ ‘ Then you’d better drive me over to Bowling 
to-night to the wedding and I’ll give you whatever 
I get — sight unseen.’ He agreed,” chuckled the 
elder, never thinking that I didn’t have a horse 
and would have had to pay a dollar for the hire of 
one to get to my appointment. 

‘‘ Folks don’t live so poor now in this neighbor^ 


78 The Mission of Janice Day 

hood — not even the Pickberrys. The house we went 
to was mostly log cabin, built back in Revolutionary- 
times, with newer additions built on from time to 
time to accommodate a growing family. 

‘‘Jim Pickberry was a great, raw-boned, black- 
haired, and bearded giant of a man, and he was 
more than half drunk before he stood up with the 
girl. He wore his work clothes — all he had, it’s 
probable — flannel shirt, shoddy trousers, and high 
boots. He did take off his hat. And ’Mandy was 
in a clean gingham ; but she was barefooted, it being 
warm weather. 

“ There was a crowd there — they oozed out into 
the yard and looked in through the big room win- 
dows where I married the couple, hard and fast. 
When the ceremony was over and everybody had 
kissed the bride, Jim took me aside. 

“ I knew what was coming,” said the elder, his 
eyes twinkling again. “ I had already had ex- 
perience enough to know the symptoms. 

“ ‘ Parson,’ Jim said to me, ‘ I’m awful much 
obliged to you for coming ’way over here and 
splicin’ me and ’Mandy. It’s mighty nice of ye. I 
expect it’s sort o’ customary to pay ye somethin’ 
for your trouble ? ’ 

“ ‘ Yes,’ I said. ‘ “ The servant is worthy of his 
hire,” Jim.’ 

“ He hemmed and hawed a bit and finally he 
blurts out : ‘ Parson ! I ain’t got airy a penny. Ye 


Lottie Seeks a Friend 


79 


know how ’tis — the licker an’ the stuff to eat cleaned 
me out. But I got a mighty likely litter of pups out 
in the barn. Come out and take your pick, will 
you? ’ 

“ " No; let Deacon Blodgett do that,’ I told him. 
* He wants a dog,’ and I collected my two dollars 
from the sorest man who ever passed the contribu- 
tion plate,” concluded the elder amid the hilarity 
of his listeners. 

The caller indicated a desire to speak with Uncle 
Jason in private before he departed, and the two 
men went out of doors to unblanket the colt and 
discuss the subject the elder had come to talk about. 

Later Janice learned that the old gentleman had 
come for the express purpose of offering Mr. Day 
financial assistance in straightening out the tangle of 
Tom Hotchkiss’ affairs. Elder Concannon would 
take up the first note of a thousand dollars, which 
was almost due, and would accept Uncle Jason’s 
signature for the debt without security. It was a 
friendly thing and the show of kindness on the 
elder’s part delighted Janice as much as it surprised 
her relatives. 

On this evening, however, and while Uncle Jason 
was at the stable with Elder Concannon, Janice and 
Marty had something else to think about. It was 
Marty who spied the flitting figure down by the lane 
gate as he looked out of the kitchen door after the 
departing elder and Uncle Jason. 


80 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ Hi tunket ! ’’ he drawled. ** What's that, I 
want to know? 'Tisn’t a dog — nor a calf. Some- 
thing's got strayed, sure enough, and don't know 
whether to venture in here or not." 

“What is it, Marty?" Janice asked idly, follow- 
ing him to the door. 

The boy grabbed his cap without replying and ran 
toward the gate. When Janice came out upon the 
porch the figure had disappeared behind the bole of 
one of the great trees down by the fence. Marty's 
coming frightened it out of the shadow in a moment 
and they saw it going up the road. 

“ Hey, there ! Stop ! " Marty called. “ It's only 
me — Marty Day. I won't hurt you." 

He could run twice as fast as his quarry, and in 
a minute had the shaking, weeping figure by the 
arm. 

“ Hi tunket ! " he gasped. “ Lottie Drugg ! 
What you doin' over here ? " 

“ Oh ! oh ! oh ! " sobbed the girl. “ I want Janice. 
Take me to my Janice Day. Oh ! do, Marty! " 

“ Sure," he told her. “ There 1 there 1 don't cry 
no more. Were you lost? What brought you here, 
Lottie? " 

“ I — I can't tell you,” she wailed. “ I'll tell my 
Janice — I’ll tell her." 

“ Come on, then,” said Marty huskily. “ Janice 
is just yonder. Don't you see her on the porch? " 

He led the sobbing child into the yard of the Day 


Lottie Seeks a Friend 81 

house and Janice, hearing them coming, ran out to 
learn what it meant. 

“ Lottie ! ’’ she cried, amazed. 

Lottie Drugg ran into the bigger girFs arms. 
“Oh, Janice! My Janice Day!” she sobbed. 
“ You*ll take me in, won’t you? You’ll let me live 
with you ? You love me just the same, don*t you? ” 
“ Goodness ! What’s the matter with the child ? ” 
gasped Janice. 

“ You got me,” her cousin said gruffly. “ I dunno 
what it’s all about.” 

“ Does your father know where you are, Lottie ? 
Or Mamma ’Rill?” 

Lottie’s weeping became more abandoned. 

“ They don’t care nothing more about me. 
They’re not going to want me any more pretty soon. 
No, they’re not ! If — if you won’t — ^won’t have me, 
Janice Day, I sha’n’t have a — a place in this — this 
world to go to.” 


CHAPTER IX 


MRS. SCATTERGOOD TALKS 

** What do you suppose is the matter with Lot- 
tie ? ” murmured Marty. “ Is she sick or some- 
thing? ” 

Suddenly Janice Day suspected the truth. She 
hugged little Lottie all the tighter, saying in reply 
to her cousin : 

“ Don’t bother her now, Marty. She isn’t sick, 
I’m sure. She’ll be all right in a little while. She’s 
come over here to spend the night with me, haven’t 
you, Lottie ? ” 

‘‘ Ye — yes ! If you’ll k-k-keep me.” 

“ Sure we’ll keep you,” said Marty gruffly. He 
was much moved by the little girl’s tears. ** You 
stop her from gulpin’ that way, Janice. She’ll — 
she’ll swallow her palate ! ” 

“ She’s in no danger, Marty,” the older girl said. 
“ She’s just sobbing.” 

Lottie’s tempestuous sobs began to subside. Janice 
led her toward the kitchen door, whispering : Is 
there anything the matter with papa or Mamma 
’Rill? Tell me, Lottie.” 


82 


83 


Mrs. Scattergood Talks 

‘‘ Just that they ain’t going to want me any more,” 
repeated Lottie. 

“Has Mrs. Scattergood been talking to you?” 
whispered Janice. 

The visitor nodded emphatically but said nothing 
more. Janice turned to Marty, and the boy won- 
dered why she looked so angry. He had not done 
anything out of the way, he was sure. 

“ Run right across town to the store, Marty, and 
tell Mr. Drugg and his wife where she is. Tell 
them she is going to stay all night with me. But 
don’t tell them anything else.” 

“ Huh ? ” queried Marty. 

“Not a thing. Just that she came here to stay 
all night with me and I didn’t want them to be wor- 
ried. That’s enough.” 

“ Oh ! ” grunted Marty. “ I see,” and he started 
out of the yard immediately, while Janice led the 
more-quietly-sobbing Lottie into the house. 

“ Dear sakes alive ! ” exploded Aunt ’Mira, 
“ what ever is Lottie Drugg doin’ ’way over here 
at this time o’ night? Anythin’ wrong with ’Rill? ” 

“ Not a thing,” Janice said cheerfully. “ Lottie 
wanted to stay all night with me and she is a little 
late getting here. Now hush, honey ! don’t cry any 
more. You are here now and you’ll be all right, 
you know.” 

“ Why, do tell ! ” said wondering Aunt 'Mira. 
“What’s she cryin’ for? Didn’t she know that 


84 The Mission of Janice Day 

little gals was as welcome here as the flowers in 
spring? Come, give Miz' Day a kiss, sweetheart. 
Tm sartain sure glad to see ye.” 

Lottie began to feel better and swallowed her 
sobs — if not her palate — very quickly. She was of 
some importance in this house, at least. She sat 
down and took off her tam-o’-shanter and unbut- 
toned the new blue coat of which she had been so 
proud only a few days before. But she was no 
longer wearing Mamma ’Rill’s ” present — the 
string of blue beads. 

“ It’s airly yet,” said Mrs. Day. ‘‘ When’s your 
usual bedtime, Lottie? We can all have a game 
of parchesi or somethin’. Can’t we, Janice ? ” 

‘‘ I don’t go to bed much before half-past nine. 
Sometimes I’m let to stay up later,” Lottie said. 

“ And your eyes are as bright as buttons now,” 
said Aunt ’Mira comfortably. “ Jest wipe the tears 
out of ’em.” 

“ That is right, Lottie. Marty will soon be back 
and we’ll play games,” Janice agreed. 

Lottie removed her coat and began to feel de- 
cidedly better. Marty came in after a while, red 
in the face and short of breath, but cheerfully a-grin 
again. He gave a bundle to Janice and winked at 
her as he said : 

‘‘ All right. I ran all the way. They say she can 
stay. Whew ! ” 

‘‘ It’s my nightie,” whispered Lottie, pointing to 


Mrs. Scattergood Talks 85 

the bundle. “ And my toothbrush and clean stock- 
ings, and things.’’ 

‘‘ Some day you’ll bust something, runnin’ so,’* 
said Mrs. Day to Marty. “ Where are all those 
picture puzzles and toy-games ? You want to amuse 
Lottie now she’s here.” 

Nothing loath, the boy rummaged out a wealth of 
amusement-producing inventions and Lottie forgot 
her sorrow for the time being. Mr. Day came in, 
and, being instructed by Janice in the kitchen, made 
no comment upon Lottie Drugg’s presence. 

The visitor sat close beside Marty and if, at any 
time, she did not play to the best advantage, he 
corrected her privately. As for Mr. and Mrs. Day 
they looked on and smiled. Who could help smiling 
at little Lottie Drugg? 

Janice was glad that her visitor’s mind was coaxed 
away from her troubles before bedtime. By that 
time Lottie was chattering like a squirrel and she 
bade the family good-night happily. 

After the two girls had said their prayers and got 
into bed, the visitor suddenly seized Janice tightly 
around the neck and sobbed a little with her face 
pressed close against the bigger girl’s shoulder. 

“ Oh, Janice Day ! I never can go home to papa 
and Mamma ’Rill. What shall I do? ” 

‘‘ Don’t worry about that, honey,” Janice told her 
soothingly. “ You can stay here, you know, if 
you wish to.” 


86 


The Mission of Janice Day 

Oh, yes ! I love you. Mr. and Mrs. Day are 
awfully nice to me. And Marty is just the best 
boy. But — but it isn’t going to be like home,” she 
wailed. 

“ Well then, dear, why don’t you wish to go home 
any more ? ” asked her friend soberly. 

“ They — they don’t want me. They — ^they ain’t 
going to want me at all.” 

‘‘ Who says so? ” 

‘‘I — I know they don’t. Why, Janice Day! 
they’ve asked God for another little girl — a baby 
girl — to come and stay with them. Mrs. Scatter- 
good says so. That’s what she meant by saying my 
nose was going to be put out of joint. She told 
me so. I asked her,” confessed Lottie. 

“ Oh, my dear ! ” sighed Janice. 

It was difficult to seek to relieve Lottie’s mind 
regarding the wonderful thing that was coming to 
pass in the Drugg household, without saying what 
might be unkind, but true, about Mrs. Scattergood. 
Just at this moment Janice felt that she could have 
shaken the acid-tempered old woman with the 
greatest satisfaction I 

‘‘ Did you ask Papa Drugg or Mamma ’Rill about 
it? ” Janice queried of the little girl. 

Oh, no.” 

“ Then how do you know they don’t want you 
any more? ” 

“ Why — of course they don’t. Or they wu — 


Mrs. Scattergood Talks 87 

wu — wouldn’t ask for another little girl,” sobbed 
Lottie. 

“ Perhaps the baby will be a little boy, honey. 
When folks ask God for a baby He sends what He 
thinks is best for them to have. And wouldn’t you 
just love to have a little baby brother to love and 
play with and help take care of? Now, wouldn’t 
you ? ” 

Oh, Janice Day! ” 

Just think! You’d always have somebody to 
play with at home and you wouldn’t be lonely any 
more. You wouldn’t even mind if your echo went 
away,” suggested Janice. Think of it ! When he 
grows bigger ” 

“ He’ll be like Marty ! ” gasped Lottie, clutching 
at her friend more vigorously. 

‘‘ That is, if it is a boy. But if it is a dear little 
girl, she’ll be lots of company for you,” Janice pur- 
sued. Think how nice it would be to have a sister. 
I’ve always wished I had one. She can play keep 
house with you, and play dolls, and you both can 
dress up and be real grown-up ladies, and ” 

A long, contented sigh from little Lottie. She 
began to breathe regularly, with only now and then 
a sob in her voice. She was asleep. 

Janice, however, did not sleep at once. With the 
soft, warm body of the innocent child in her arms 
she lay a long time pondering these things. 

How unkind of Mrs. Scattergood to let the barb 


88 The Mission of Janice Day 

of her bitter tongue sting Lottie’s gentle heart! 
How wrong and unwise ’Rill’s mother was about 
most things I 

Because she selfishly desired her daughter to be 
at her beck and call, Mrs. Scattergood had opposed 
her marriage to Hopewell Drugg. So, at every turn, 
where the sour old creature could do so, she sowed 
thorns in the path of her daughter and Hopewell. 

She makes herself unhappy, and all about her, 
as well. She succeeded in embittering poor ’Rill’s 
life for several weeks with her untrue gossip about 
Mr. Drugg’s drinking. Now, when she should be 
her daughter’s greatest stay and comfort, she delib- 
erately tries to set poor little Lottie against her own 
mamma and father. It is dreadful,” Janice decided. 
“ It must be stopped. Fve got to do something 
about it! ” 

So, when she finally dropped to sleep it was with 
this decision firm in her mind. She awoke with it, 
too, and after leaving Lottie at the schoolhouse, 
Janice drove her car around by Mrs. Scattergood’s 
little dwelling at the crown of the High Street hill. 

The birdlike little old woman was out in her front 
yard swathing her rosebushes in straw and mulch- 
ing their roots against the harder frosts of winter 
which were already due. She waved a gloved hand 
to the young girl who stepped out from behind the 
steering wheel of her car and entered the creaking 
gate. 


89 


Mrs. Scattergood Talks 

Here ye be, Janice Day, jest as bright as a new 
penny,” said Mrs. Scattergood. I wanter know 
if that young' un of Hopewell Drugg’s was over to 
your house last night.” 

Yes, she was, Mrs. Scattergood,” Janice gravely 
replied. “ She remained all night with me.” 

Huh, I don't approve of sech didoes. My 
young'uns was alius in the house by dark — and 
stayed in till mornin'. 'Rill came traipsin' over here 
after eight o’clock to see if I'd seen her.” 

** Lottie was all right,” said Janice. I sent 
Marty over to tell 'Rill not to worry.” 

The young'un ain't more'n ha'f witted. I alius 
have said so.” 

She is just as bright as any other child of her 
age — brighter than some,” affirmed Janice warmly. 
** She is more sensitive than most. Therefore we 
should be careful what we say to her.” 

‘‘Ha! what d'ye mean, Janice Day?” asked the 
old woman, eyeing her caller suspiciously and bel- 
ligerently. 

Janice told her. She spoke warmly and with 
flashing eyes that held Mrs. Scattergood silent for 
the nonce. She had never seen Janice display any 
appearance of wrath before, and if her pet cat had 
suddenly turned in her lap and spit at her and 
scratched her, Mrs. Scattergood would have been no 
more surprised. 

“ Hoity-toity, young lady ! ” she finally said. 


90 


The Mission of Janice Day 

“ Do you think this is pretty talk to me that’ s old 
enough to be your grandmother ? ” 

“ That is just why I am saying it to you, Mrs. 
Scattergood,” Janice responded firmly. ‘‘ You are 
little Lottie’s grandmother ” 

‘‘ No, I ain’t! ” snapped the woman, her face very 
grim. “Nor I ain’t likely to adopt any young oi]e 
of Hope Drugg’s and Cindy Stone’s. I — should — 
say — not I ” 

“ And is that the attitude you propose to assume 
when the little stranger comes? You cannot deny 
your relationship then.” 

“ Oh ! Well ! Ahem ! That’s quite another mat- 
ter,” said Mrs. Scattergood crossly. 

“ Just now, when dear ’Rill needs all the kind- 
ness that can be shown her — by everybody — why 
can’t you forget your ” — “ spite ” she desired to say, 
but did not — “ dislike of Hopewell and little Lottie ? 
Be friends with them. Why! this arrival should 
make you all one happy family together.” 

Mrs. Scattergood snorted — literally. “ Ha ! 

Sech a great to-do about nothin’,” she ejaculated. 

“ Oh, no, Mrs. Scattergood. It’s not about noth- 
ing. It’s the greatest thing that can happen. It is 
the most beautiful thing in the world to ’Rill. I 
know she feels that way.” 

“ Poor critter ! She’s almost as big a fule as that 
young’un, Lottie,” muttered the woman. 

“ Doesn’t she need your love and comfort all the 


Mrs. Scattergood Talks 91 

more, then?” suggested Janice softly. ‘‘Think of 
it, Mrs. Scattergood.” 

“ ril tell ye what I do think, Janice Day,” snapped 
the other, not at all pacified. “ I think you’d be in 
better business if you found something else to do, 
’stead o’ cornin’ here to tell me what’s my duty.” 

“ Oh, now, Mrs. Scattergood, don’t be angry with 
me. I know you’ll be sorry later if you do not 
show the love that ’Rill has the right to expect from 
you at this time. Don’t make trouble for her.” 

“ Humph! ” ejaculated the old woman, scowling 
at her. “ A body might think you had trouble 
enough of your own so’t you could afford to mind 
your own business.” 

Janice flushed, for the criticism stung. She had, 
however, determined not to take offense at anything 
Mrs. Scattergood might say. Nothing but the girl’s 
deep sense of the necessity for her act had urged 
her to address ’Rill’s mother in this way. 

“ I haven’t any personal trouble just now, Mrs. 
Scattergood. Of course. Uncle Jason’s difficulty 
worries me a bit. But when daddy hears about it 
he will help.” 

“Your father! Broxton Day! Humph!” ex- 
ploded the old woman, her wrinkled face flushed and 
her eyes snapping. “ I calc’late Broxton Day has 
got his hands full right now without doin’ anythin’ 
for your Uncle Jase.” 

“ Why, what do you mean, Mrs. Scattergood ? ” 


92 


The Mission of Janice Day 

The color washed out of Janice’s cheeks instantly, 
and her lips remained parted in her excitement. 
Somehow the tart old woman’s speech struck deep 
into the girl’s heart. 

For several days she had been fighting down the 
feeling of suspicion and fear that was rising like a 
tide within her. Daddy’s letter was delayed. She 
had not chanced to see any newspaper but the 
Courier of late. Why! even Uncle Jason’s Ledger 
had not appeared on the sitting room table. She 
watched the hard old face of the crotchety Mrs. 
Scattergood in a fascination of growing horror, 
repeating : 

What do you mean ? Has anything happened to 
daddy? And you know it — and I don’t?” 

'' Well, ye oughter if ye don’t,” snapped Mrs. 
Scattergood. “ I never did believe in hidin’ the 
trewth from folks. No good comes of it.” 

'' What is it ? What has happened to my father ? ” 
and Janice clutched at her arm. 

“ Wal, I’ve gone so fur, I might’s well tell ye,” 
the woman said, all of a flutter now. Somebody 
oughter tell ye. Ye was bound to find it out, any- 
way.” 

'' But what is it ? ” 

“ Broxton Day’s been shot by them Mexicaners. 
He’s shot, is a prisoner, an’ I hear tell he ain’t never 
likely to git out o’ that plaguey country alive I ” 



What do you mean? Has anything happened to daddy?” 


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CHAPTER X 


THE ONLY SERIOUS THING 

The gate clashed open again just as Janice’s 
weakened grasp slipped from Mrs. Scattergood’s 
arm and she staggered away from the excited, pant- 
ing old woman. The girl would have fallen, save 
that the young man who rushed in at the gate, 
having seen the danger in season, caught her in 
his arms. 

The girl’s eyelids fluttered; her lips remained 
open; the pallor of her face was terrifying. 

“ What’s happened ? ” demanded the newcomer. 
“ What have you done to her, Mrs. Scattergood? ” 

“ Me ? I ain’t done nothing — not a thing ! ” 
denied the woman shrilly. 

‘‘You said something to her, then?” 

“ Wal! What if I did? She’d oughter hev been 
told before.” 

“ You told herf^’ 

“ Daddy! Oh, Daddy! ” moaned Janice. 

“You mind your own business, Frank Bowman! 
You’re one o’ them foolish folk, too, that’s alius 
tryin’ ter hide the trewth ’cause it’s bitter. Sure ’tis 
bitter ; ’twas meant ter be. An’ these namby-pamby 
93 


94 The Mission of Janice Day 

people in this world that can’t stand the trewth to be 
told to ’em ” 

Mrs. Scattergood overlooked the plain fact that 
the reason she had lost her temper and told this 
secret to Janice Day was because the girl had told 
her a few truths. ,But Frank Bowman was not 
listening to the old woman’s tirade. Janice had not 
lost consciousness. . Only for a moment did she sag 
helplessly on the young civil engineer’s arm. 

Then he led her out at the gate and to her car. 
He aided Janice into the seat, but slipped behind 
the steering wheel himself and touched the self- 
starter. 

Mrs. Scattergood stared after them, slowly re- 
treating the while toward the house. Her face did 
not display its customary smirk of complacency. 
That bit of gossip that had trembled on the tip of 
her tongue for days, and which she had been begged 
not to reveal to Janice, had at length been spoken. 
Her mind should have been relieved ; but Mrs. Scat- 
tergood was not satisfied. There was something 
wrong. All she could see as she stumbled into the 
house was the stricken face of the young girl who 
had so often done her a friendly kindness, whose 
smile had been, after all, a cheering sight to her 
aging vision, whose whole existence here in Polk- 
town seemed to be for the express purpose of mak- 
ing other people happy. It was with a sort of mental 
shock that Mrs. Scattergood suddenly discovered 


The Only Serious Thing 95 

she, too, had been blessed and comforted by the 
spirit of Janice Day. 

The car swept up the hill and over its crown, as 
the old woman retired into her cottage. Frank 
Bowman had not said a word. He twisted the steer- 
ing wheel a trifle and they shot around the Town 
House front and into the Upper Middletown road. 

'‘Oh, Frank! Is it true? It is true!” the girl 
finally faltered. 

“ Yes. Your father is wounded. We do not 
know how badly. No news has come out of the 
district since the first report. He is a prisoner of 
the insurrectos at the mine.” 

" There has been another battle ? ” 

" Yes. Another uprising against the government. 

It’s an awful thing ” 

" Is there no hope? Oh, Frank ! there must be ! ” 
" Of course there is hope,” he cried. " He’s no 
worse off than he has been several times before.” 

" But you say he is shot ! ” 

" Well — yes. That is the report.” 

" If one part of the report is true, why not the 
other?” said the girl, her keenness of wit thus dis- 
played. 

" But the wound may not be bad. We don’t know 
that it is. Oh! hang that old woman, anyway! 
Why did she tell you ? ” 

" Because she was angry with me,” sighed Janice. 
« Well ” 


96 


The Mission of Janice Day 

And you must all think father very badly hurt 
or you would not have hid it from me — for how 
long ? ” 

He told her. “ But we don’t really know any- 
thing about it. Nelson is raising heaven and earth 
for news. There is a good deal of excitement along 
the Border, they say ” 

“Yes. I read that. Oh! how have you all 
managed to hide it from me for so long? I felt — 
Oh, you had no right I ” 

“ We did what we hoped was for the best,” Frank 
said gently. 

“ Oh, I suppose you did. But daddy wounded I 
I must go to him, Frank.” 

“ Oh no, my dear girl. That would not be pos- 
sible. Nobody can get beyond San Cristoval, and 
no American is allowed to cross the Border. It is 
not safe to enter Mexico now on any pretext. 
Those greasers hate us worse than poison.” 

Janice tried to control herself. She had not wept ; 
this dry-eyed suffering was a deal worse for the 
girl, however, than would have been a passion of 
tears. 

“ Where — where are you taking me ? ” she asked 
suddenly, laying her hand on Frank’s arm. 

“ Why, weren’t you on your way to the semi- 
nary ? ” 

“ But I can’t go there now,” she said. “ Not 
to-day.” 


The Only Serious Thing 97 

“ Here's Elder Concannon’s place, right ahead. 
We can turn there if you like.” 

At the moment the elder himself appeared from 
one of the barns, and seeing the car and recognizing 
its occupants he came out to the great gate to hail 
them. 

“Aren't going right by without stopping, are 
ye ? '' he said genially. 

Frank Bowman quite involuntarily brought the 
car to a stop. The moment he did so the elder saw 
Janice's face. 

“ What's the matter? '' he asked quickly. “ Has 
she been told ? Does she know ? ” 

Frank nodded and the old man quickly came 
around to the girl's side. 

“ My dear,'' he said huskily. “ My dear, brave 
girl! You've got something to trouble you now 
for a fac’. It's the waiting to hear news — to get the 
exact fac's — that is going to be hardest. Your 
friends have saved you some of that.'' 

“ Oh, I know ! I know they thought they were 
doing it for the best,” wailed Janice. “ But daddy ! 
He needs me ! ” 

“ It may not be anywhere near so bad as it might 
be, or as you think it is,” Frank put in. 

“ Quite true — quite true,” said the elder very 
gently for him. “ I know just how hard 'tis to wait, 
Janice. I calculate those that wait at home suffer 
more than those that actually see battle, murder, 


98 The Mission of Janice Day 

and sudden death. But your father, Janice, may be 
already on his way home. You can’t tell. You got 
to have patience.” 

“ But I ought to go to him. Elder Concannon,” 
she said. 

“ Not to be thought of ! Not to be thought of ! ” 
he repeated. What ? A gal like you going clear 
down there to Mexico? Preposterous!” 

That is what Uncle Jason said later, when his 
niece broached the subject to him. Indeed, Janice 
found nobody would listen to her or agree to such 
a project. A girl to go down to the Border, es- 
pecially in these uncertain times? They scoffed at 
her 1 

It was said that the parties of rebels and com- 
mandoes of the Mexican army were hovering along 
the Rio Grande, ready to swoop like hawks upon 
unprotected Americans. The thin line of United 
States soldiers was strung along the desert country, 
watchfully waiting, policing the district as best they 
could. But they could not protect Americans who 
went over the line. 

That evening an informal council of war was held 
in the Day sitting room. Frank Bowman was there 
as well as Nelson Haley. Frank was a very busy 
young man, for the branch railroad was completed, 
and, having built it, he was to act as supervisor of 
the branch until the directors decided upon another 
incumbent for the office. Besides, Frank had a 


99 


The Only Serious Thing 

deep interest in the pretty daughter of Vice Presi- 
dent Harrison of the V. C. Road, and therefore 
he was not seen about Polktown so often in his 
free hours as formerly. He had come this evening, 
however, with Nelson, and the two young men, 
as well as the older heads, were unalterably op- 
posed to Janice Day's desire to attempt going to 
the Border. 

“ Why, you couldn't get across the Rio Grande," 
Frank said decisively. ‘‘ Trains are not running 
with any degree of regularity on any road in 
Northern Mexico. The International is at a stand- 
still, I am told — tracks torn up in places and the 
American engineers chased out. And this San 
Cristoval place is on a branch of the International." 

Nelson asked a question about the best route to be 
followed in getting to that point on the Border op- 
posite to San Cristoval, and Frank told them, clearly 
and concisely. 

“ But even then you ^re several hundred miles 
from the Companos District," he pursued. ‘‘ Chi- 
huahua is a big state. Texas itself is only to be 
compared to it for size. A ranching country, slopes 
up to the Sierras. It is in the foothills of the Sierras 
that the Alderdice Mine is situated. Why, Janice ! 
you are actually just as near to your father — ^at 
least news of him — here in Polktown as you would 
be down there on the Border, for there all wires 
and other lines of communication are cut. There is 


100 The Mission of Janice Day 

no safe way of getting beyond the Rio Grande at 
the present time/’ 

“ Jefers-pelters ! ” ejaculated Walky Dexter, who 
was present at the conference. “ Broxton Day 
might’s well be in Chiny.” 

‘‘ You are right, Walky, for once,” declared Uncle 
Jason. “ I wish he’d never gone down to that 
heathenish country.” 

Aunt ’Mira was in tprs — had been so since Janice 
had driven home in her car with the civil engineer 
that morning. She had controlled herself after a 
fashion, these several days for Janice’s sake; now 
she was making up for lost time, so Marty declared, 
and wept with abandon. 

“ Why, she can*t go down there inter Mexico,” 
wailed the woman. No gal like her can’t. ’Tain’t 
fit Why, them women down there don’t even wear 
decent clo’es ! I’ve seen pitchers of ’em with nothin’ 
on but basket-work stuff around their waists an’ 
anklets. It’s disgraceful ! ” 

“Oh, cricky, Ma!” chortled Marty. “You are 
gittin’ things mixed for sure. That’s the Hawaiian 
Islands you’re thinkin’ of. Hula-hula girls. Oh 
my! ” 

“ Wal, ’tis jest as bad in Mexico, I haven’t a 
doubt,” said the fleshy woman, tossing her head. 
“ ’Tis no place for a decent gal like our Janice.” 

“ Ye air jest as right as rain, Miz’ Day,” agreed 
Walky. 


101 


The Only Serious Thing 

Hi tunket ! said the boy, the only person who 
did not attempt to discourage Janice in her thought 
of starting at once for the Border. Hi tunket ! 
wouldn't it be dandy to go down there among those 
greasers and bring Uncle Brocky home? Fd go 
with you, Janice, in a minute!" 

“ Huh 1 " gruffly said his father, “ you'd be a lot 
of use, you would." 

“ I bet I would be, so now 1 " said the boy. ** If 
Janice goes. I'm going. Ain't I got some interest 
in Uncle Brocky, I'd like to know ? " 

‘‘ You show your int'rest in this sittin’ room fire, 
son," observed Mr. Day. ‘‘ Go out and get an arm- 
ful of chunks. Fire's goin' out on us." 

That's all right," growled Marty. ‘‘ If Janice 
goes, Fm goin' — that's all there is about it." 

But nobody considered for a moment that Janice 
could, should, or would go! It seemed positively 
ridiculous to the minds of all her friends that the 
girl should even contemplate such a thing. 

‘‘ But what shall I do? " she cried. 

‘‘ Wait. That's all any of us can do, Janice," 
Nelson said tenderly. ‘‘ It is terrible to be inactive 
at such a time, I know. But you could do nothing 
down there on the Border that you cannot do here 
in Polktown." 

'' I'd be nearer to daddy," she said, with a sob. 

Ye don't know that” put in Uncle Jason. We 
don't none of us know where Broxton Day is right 


102 


The Mission of Janice Day 

now. Why! he might open that door yonder and 
walk in here any moment. How d’we know ? ” 

But Janice found little comfort in the thought. 
Indeed, she scarcely heard what her uncle said. She 
could think of little but her father’s perilous situa- 
tion, wounded and a prisoner among people whom 
she believed to be as bloodthirsty as savages. 

Uncle Jason’s financial difficulties were nothing 
to compare to this. Little Lottie Drugg’s state of 
mind slipped entirely out of Janice Day’s memory. 

The only serious thing in the world to her now 
was her father’s peril and her inability to get to 
him to lend him the comfort of her presence. 


CHAPTER XI 


MUST go!” 

Janice awoke after a very uneasy and depressing 
night with the phrase I must go ” written so plainly 
upon the mirror of her mind that it might as well 
have appeared across the pretty wall paper at the 
foot of the bed. 

‘‘ I must go ! ” 

No matter what other people said — no matter 
what they thought. At this juncture the young girl 
was fain to believe her own wisdom superior to 
that of all her friends. 

Of course, daddy had sent her here to be in 
Uncle Jason^s care. She was really supposed to 
be under his domination. If Uncle Jason said 
“ No ! ” Janice was presumed to obey, just as Marty 
had to obey. 

And Uncle Jason had uttered his refusal quite 
distinctly. He could not see the need for Janice to 
go to the Border when not a thing was yet known 
regarding Broxton Day’s situation save that he was 
wounded and was held prisoner far beyond the lines 
of the Mexican army. 

Why, Janice,” he told her at the breakfast 
103 


104 The Mission of Janice Day 

table, ‘‘ I ain’t got any money to spare jest now, for 
a fac’, as ye well know; but if I thought for a 
minute ’twould do your father a mite o’ good. I’d 
take what I have and go down there myself to look 
for him. Sartain sure I would ! ” 

“ You jest trust to your uncle, Janice,” said Aunt 
’Mira, once more on the verge of tears. He knows 
best; don’t ye doubt it.” 

Janice did doubt it. She did not wish to say 
so, but no matter what her friends said, or how wise 
they might be in other matters, the girl’s intuition 
told her that beyond peradventure there was some- 
thing for her to do for her father if once she could 
get to Mexico. 

She saw it was of no use to talk about it, however 
positive she might be that she was right. She could 
not convince Uncle Jason and Aunt ’Mira. Indeed, 
she could not even change Nelson Haley’s opinion. 
Everybody seemed to think it was an unheard-of 
idea for a girl to go alone on such a journey for any 
reason. 

Janice had traveled East alone to Polktown when 
she was only a young girl, and nobody, save Mrs. 
Scattergood, criticized that fact. It was because 
there seemed to be danger threatening along the 
Border — the possibility of actual war between the 
United States and Mexico — that they all considered 
her desire so extraordinary. 

To Uncle Jason, too, in his personal difficulties 


Must Go!” 


105 


over the Tom Hotchkiss notes, the money for such 
a trip as Janice wished to make seemed a big item. 
It was, of course ; that truth the girl admitted. It 
was a big item for her to contemplate. Although 
the bank at Greenboro sent her aunt each month a 
check to cover Janice’s board there was no hope of 
the girl’s getting other money from that source. 
The board matter was an agreement Mr. Broxton 
Day had entered into with the bank before he went 
to Mexico. Janice did not really understand how 
her father stood financially with the Greenboro bank. 
She did not know whether or not he had money on 
deposit there. His recent profits from the mine she 
actually knew nothing about. He was always liberal 
with her regarding spending money when he had any 
money at all. She had never asked him for a penny, 
for that was unnecessary. 

Just now her funds chanced to be very low. Some 
repairs on the Kremlin car had been necessary ; and 
then there was her fall outfit which had just been 
paid for. 

Janice counted her loose cash and looked up her 
bank balance. The latter was down to fifty dollars ; 
she had not much more than ten dollars in her 
pocketbook. 

She could not ask Uncle Jason for money. Nor 
Nelson. She could depend upon nobody to help her 
in this emergency, for they were all against her. 

Those words were ever before her mental vision ; 


106 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ I must go ! ” Determination grew hourly in her 
heart. No matter what others thought or said her 
duty lay far oif there to the southwest — over the 
Border in battle-ridden Mexico ! 

Her main trouble was the fact that she must keep 
her intention secret from her friends — from those 
whom she loved and who loved her. Janice's nature 
was naturally the opposite to secretive and this 
course was particularly distasteful to her. 

She had, however, come to that point where she 
must decide for herself, and she refused to be in- 
fluenced by her advisers. Had their objections been 
based upon anything better than a feeling and belief 
that the Border “ was no place for a girl," Janice 
would have hesitated to follow her determination, 
so opposed to the consensus of Polktown opinion. 
But she felt that her friends failed to see the mat- 
ter in the right light. 

Daddy was wounded — a prisoner — ^perhaps dy- 
ing! He needed her! It seemed to the troubled, 
anxious girl as though his dear voice, so well re- 
membered, rang continually in her ears. He called 
for her ! 

She could not tell her friends this. They would 
not understand it — ^not even Nelson. Janice felt 
that although the schoolmaster sympathized with 
her in every fiber of his being, he was bound by 
his very love for her to oppose her desire in this 
matter. 


“I Must Go!” 


107 


He of course could not go with her to Mexico. 
Uncle Jason would not if he could. Who else was 
there to take the lead in such a venture? 

“ Why,” thought Janice Day, “ I’ve just got to 
go, and go alone! That’s all there is to it. And 
the less I say about it before I’m ready to start the 
better.” 

She thought she saw a way to her end — a financial 
way, at least. She had offered to sell her car to aid 
Uncle Jason in his trouble. She would sell it now 
for funds with which to make her determined jour- 
ney, for Uncle Jason did not need her proffered as- 
sistance at present, while her father’s need was much 
the greater. 

Every hour that passed increased Janice’s anxiety. 
What if daddy died down there in Mexico — all alone 
among strangers, without ever seeing his daughter 
again ? 

This thought was too dreadful for Janice to men- 
tion aloud to anybody. It was in her mind con- 
tinually; she could not escape it. 

That very day — the one following her discovery 
through Mrs. Scattergood of the truth about Brox- 
ton Day as known to so many Polktown folk — 
Janice set about carrying out her plan. She drove 
around to Mr. Cross Moore’s instead of going 
directly to Middletown and the seminary. 

There had been a time not so very long before 
when Janice and the president of the town selectmen 


108 The Mission of Janice Day 

had been at variance. Mr. Cross Moore had desired 
the Polktown hotel to retain its liquor license while 
the girl had championed the dry cause. The latter 
had won ; but Cross Moore was a good loser. Mrs. 
Moore might be angry with Janice Day; but her 
husband had always held what he termed a sneak- 
ing fondness for that Day girl ’’ and no matter how 
much they might conflict in politics or opinion, the 
man respected Janice’s earnestness and appreciated 
her unselfishness. 

Coming down the hilly street, guiding her car 
skillfully around the ‘‘hubbly” places, Janice saw 
Mrs. Beaseley out sweeping the narrow brick walk 
laid in front of her gate. The tall and solemn- 
looking woman, still dressed in mourning for the 
husband dead now many years, and whose memory 
she worshiped, gave the girl a frosty smile, al- 
though Janice knew there was an exceedingly warm 
heart behind it. 

“ You air late going to school, Janice Day,” she 
said. “ Mr. Haley went an hour ago.” 

‘‘ I am not going to the seminary this morning,” 
the girl replied, stopping her car. “ Everything is 
all right with you, I suppose, Mrs. Beaseley ? ” 

Oh, yes,” the widow said, sighing mournfully. 
‘‘ I have my health, and should be thankful for’t I 
s’pose. My sainted Charles useter say that health 
was ev’rything in this world — ^an’ ’twas to him. 
When he lost his health he lost all his zest for livin’. 


“I Must Go!” 


109 


He had alius been a robust man up to his sickness. 
He was a heavy feeder and as long as he eat his 
victuals with guster I felt he was all right. 

“ Now, Mr. Haley, he ain’t never jest suited me 
regardin’ eatin’. It does seem as though a young 
man like him should put away more victuals than he 
does.” 

‘‘ Well, I’m sure he never gets up from your table 
hungry, dear Mrs. Beaseley,” laughed Janice. ‘‘ And 
some of the doctors say that one should do that to 
insure a long life.” 

‘‘ What ! go hungry ? ” gasped this scandalized 
housewife. 

‘‘ Not eating quite all we think we want at each 
meal,” explained Janice. 

“ Wal ! for the good Land o’ Goshen ! I hev said 
— an’ I stick to it — that doctors is given more now- 
adays to change in styles an’ fashions than what 
silly women air — even that Bowman gal that cut up 
such didoes in Polktown last winter. 

Fust they believe in stuffin’ a body ; then it’s 
the fashion ter starve folks. One doctor says meat 
victuals is the only fit eatin’ for human bein’s an’ 
the next one wants you should put on a nosebag an’ 
eat horse feed. Humph! Reminds me of silly 
George Putnam and his pig.” 

What about them, Mrs. Beaseley?” asked 
Janice, who was always amused by the widow^s 
speeches. 


110 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ Why, George had a right likely shote give to him 
one year, but it turned out a runt, he fed it so queer. 
The critter seemed alius squealin’ for something to 
eat, an’ my Charles asked him : 

“ ‘ George, how d’you feed that critter ? ’ 

“ ‘ Why,’ says silly George, ‘ I kalkerlate ter feed 
him ev’ry other day.’ 

“‘Ye do?’ says Charles. ‘What’s that for? 
Don’t you suppose the pig gits hungry jest as often 
as you do ? ’ 

“ ‘ Ye-es — that may be,’ says George. ‘ But I like 
my side-meat ’ith a streak o’ lean an’ a streak o’ fat.’ 

“ Why, goo’ mornin’, Mr. Cross Moore ! How’s 
your lady this mornin’ ? ” concluded the widow as 
the selectman, whom Janice had seen coming up the 
hill, stopped beside the car. 

“ She’s ’bout the same, Miz’ Beaseley. Morning, 
Janice! Which way you going? ” 

“ I am going your way, Mr. Moore,” the girl said 
with a sudden feeling of timidity. “ I — I was com- 
ing to see you.” 

“ Well, turn right around and drive up toward — 
well, toward Concannon’s — and you can see me all 
you want to. I don’t want mother should see me 
drivin’ off with you in this car,” and he chuckled. 
“ She thinks she’s taken a gre’t dislike to this sort 
o’ locomotion ; but I’m going to have a car of some 
kind, jest the same.” 

Janice made no reply until she had turned the 


‘‘I Must Go!” Ill 

automobile and was headed uptown. Then her first 
words were : 

“ Mr. Moore, I want you to buy this car.’’ 

‘‘ Ahem ! you mean one like it — a Kremlin ? ” he 
said, eyeing her curiously. 

“ No. This very car. It’s all right and I will 
sell it to you cheap.” 

“ You goin’ to get a new one, Janice? ” 

‘‘Oh, Mr. Moore! I’m not thinking of motor 
cars. I’m in great trouble. Perhaps you know? 
My father 

“ I heard something down to Massey’s drugstore 
about his being hived up somewhere in Mexico by 
them insurrectionists,” replied Cross Moore, still 
watching her countenance. 

“ Well, I want to go to him. You know how 
Uncle Jason is fixed just now.” 

“ Yes, Janice. Jase is in a hole.” 

“ So you see. I’ve got to sell my car.” 

“ Mebbe I could git the money for you — ye can 
borry it of me,” suggested the selectman. 

“ Oh, thank you, Mr. Moore I That’s more than 
kind. But I wouldn’t know when or how I could 
pay you back. And Uncle Jase can’t possibly help 
me — if he would. I am going to tell you frankly, 
Mr. Moore, the folks don’t approve of my going 
down there to find father.” 

“ No? Wal, it's not to be wondered at.” 

“But, don’t you see? I've just got to go, Mr. 


112 The Mission of Janice Day 

Moore. And I must sell my car to get the money to 
pay my fare. You can have it for ” she pon- 

dered and then mentioned a sum that she thought 
was a bargain price indeed, even for a car that had 
been run as far as this Kremlin. ‘‘ You can have it 
for that — and for one other thing.^* 

‘‘ Huh ? A string to it ? ’’ he demanded. 

“ Your silence is involved. You must not tell 
anybody you have bought the car till I get out of 
town. I am going to run away, Mr. Moore, and 
you must help me if you wish to own this auto- 
mobile.’’ 


CHAPTER XII 


NELSON DOES NOT UNDERSTAND 

Janice came back from Middletown with several 
bundles. She had been shopping, she told Aunt 
’Mira; but she did not mention the fact that she 
had drawn her last fifty dollars from the bank. 

Mr. Cross Moore had been to the bank, too; and 
the sum of money which he had drawn out in crisp 
twenty and fifty dollar bills was pinned securely to 
Janice’s underwaist. 

She merely told the folks that Mr. Moore was 
going to take his wife out in the car, for he had 
already learned to run an automobile, it seemed. 
And if the president of the town selectmen could 
not license himself to drive a motor car, who 
could ? 

Janice’s uncle and aunt made no comment; they 
had other things to think about. If Marty suspected 
anything he kept his suspicions to himself. 

All of course watched the papers for news of 
Broxton Day ; but Mexican news seemed very tame 
indeed. Those Americans who came out of Chi- 
huahua told dreadful stories ; but most of these tales 
113 


114 The Mission of Janice Day 

had to be taken with more than a grain of salt.” 
Many of these ‘‘ Americans ” owned to Spanish- 
Mexican names, and were merely Americans by 
naturalization — and that “ for business purposes 
only.” 

Their tales dealt with the recent uprising in the 
Companos District; but nothing new was related 
about what had happened at the mines north of San 
Cristoval. No mention was made in any dispatches 
regarding Mr. Broxton Day. Letters to Nelson 
Haley in reply to his inquiries, both from Washing- 
ton and the Border, merely said that matters were 
in such a chaotic state in Chihuahua that no facts 
were available. 

It was on the evening of this eventful day — the 
day she had sold her car — that Janice went to speak 
privately with Nelson. Knowing that her uncle 
would absolutely forbid her departure for the Bor- 
der if she told him she was going, Janice would not 
open any discussion with him. She had already 
written a note to leave for her Uncle Jason and 
Aunt ’Mira to read after she was gone. But with 
Nelson it was different. How could she go away 
from Polktown without telling the young school- 
master she was going — without sharing with him 
this secret that now had begun to weigh so heavily 
on her mind ? 

She stopped at Hopewell Drugg’s for a minute 
and found the little family in almost a holiday spirit 


Nelson Does Not Understand 115 

— the storekeeper bustling about waiting on cus- 
tomers, ’Rill at her sewing table, and little Lottie 
singing over the supper dishes. 

‘‘ You did the child a world of good, it seems,” 
the storekeeper’s wife said softly, to her friend. 
‘‘ Since she spent the night with you, Lottie has 
been like another girl.” 

‘‘ Don’t let her drift away from you again, 
honey,” Janice said, smiling tenderly on the little 
woman. '' Remember, Lottie must have just as deep 
an interest in this wonderful happening as any of 
you.” 

‘‘ I — I don’t know just how to talk to her,” ’Rill 
whispered, flushing a little. 

“ You don’t have to talk,” smiled Janice. “ Just 
love her — that is all you need do. You do love her, 
and don’t let anybody tell her differently.” 

There was a lamp burning in Nelson Haley’s 
study, and Janice tapped lightly on the window pane, 
bringing him to the front door. She did not wish 
to run the gantlet of Mrs. Beaseley’s volubility on 
this occasion. 

“ My dear ! ” said the schoolmaster, drawing her 
within and seeing her very serious face. Nothing 
new has happened ? ” 

About daddy?” she sighed. ‘/Nothing that I 
am aware of. I know nothing. Nelson. But I feel 
that I must know very soon. This uncertainty is 
killing me ! ” 


116 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ My dear girl,” he murmured. I wish I could 
help you.” 

“ But you can’t,” she broke in with energy. No- 
body can. I must help myself now, for you and the 
others have done all you could.” 

“ Why, Janice, what more can you do than we 
have attempted ? ” he asked wonderingly. “ The 
moment any news comes over the Border of your 
father it will be telegraphed North.” 

And do you think I can wait here — inactive, 
hopeless — for something to turn up ? Why, Nelson ! 
there is nobody down there with any special interest 
in daddy. The men who are engaged in the 
mining enterprise with him are all in the North 
here.” 

“ Yes, yes,” Nelson cried. “ But what can be 
done ? What can 7 do ? What can any of us do, my 
dear Janice? ” 

‘‘ I don’t know that anybody can do anything — up 
here. But I mean to go down there — yes, I do! 
I am going to find my father. Nelson.” 

She began to sob hysterically and the school- 
master patted her hand with soothing intent. Of 
course you can’t do that, Janice. A girl like you 
could do nothing down there in Mexico.” 

” How do you know ? ” she demanded, dashing 
away her tears and looking up at him. “ I tell you. 
Nelson, I am going.” 

He sighed and shook his head. “Of course you 


Nelson Does Not Understand 117 


can^t do that, Janice,” he repeated. “ I thought that 
was all settled last evening.” 

'' It was perhaps settled in your mind ; not in 
mine.” 

It would be an unheard-of thing to do. Your 
uncle and aunt would never allow it.” 

“ Yes, Nelson, I know that. But I will go just 
the same,” the girl told him. 

He shook his head again and smiled at her. You 
have the will to do it, I don’t doubt, Janice. But, 
really, you couldn’t.” 

Janice opened her lips once more; then she closed 
them. What was the use of saying anything fur- 
ther? Even Nelson did not believe she would carry 
out her intention. 

‘‘ Very well, then,” she said, rising and making 
ready for departure. I’ll say good-bye. You 
can’t see it my way. Nelson; but if it were you who 
were wounded and alone down there in Mexico do 
you suppose any power on earth would keep me 
from going to you ? ” 

She slipped away before the full force of her final 
speech percolated to the young schoolmaster’s brain. 
He got up to follow her; then he paced the floor of 
his study instead. 

Of course, she doesn’t really mean it,” he finally 
told himself, and went back to the correction of the 
pile of compositions on his table. 

It was quite true. Nobody believed she meant it 


118 The Mission of Janice Day 

except Mr. Cross Moore. And the selectman had 
perhaps a higher opinion of Janice Day’s ability 
than most people in Polktown. We respect a 
person who was got the best of us in any event, 
and Mr. Moore had reason for considering this 
young girl to be the principal person involved in his 
recent defeat in town politics. 

At another time Janice might have been somewhat 
piqued by the apparent fact that nobody believed she 
could or would start for Mexico. She had thought 
her reputation in Polktown for determination and 
the carrying out of anything she undertook to be 
such that her friends would believe that, when she 
said a thing, she meant it. She had been a do some- 
thing girl since first she had come to this Vermont 
village to live. They might have been warned by 
past events of what to expect of Janice Day when 
once she had made up her mind. 

She had already packed her bag. It made her 
unhappy to do this secretly and to sit with the family 
during the evening without saying a word regarding 
her plans. 

Walky Dexter looked in for a little while ; but he 
was unable for once to raise the general temperature 
of the social spirit. As for Marty, Janice caught 
him several times looking at her so strangely that she 
feared he suspected something. Walky noted the 
boy’s strange mood, for he finally drawled : 

Jefers-pelters, Marty! what’s ailin’ on ye? Ye 


Nelson Does Not Understand 119 

look like Peleg Swift did arter he eat the three black 
crows/’ 

‘‘ Huh ! that old wheeze ! ” growled Marty. ‘‘ He 
didn’t eat no three crows. He only ate something 
they said was burned as black as a crow. One o’ 
his wife’s biscuit, I bet.” 

“ He, he I Mebbe you’re right,” chuckled Walky. 

“ I reckon on givin’ Marty a good dose of jalap,” 
said his mother. “ I was thinkin’ for sev’ral days 
he was lookin’ right peaked.” 

“ There ! ” fairly yelled Marty to Mr. Dexter. 
‘‘ See what you got me in for? You are about as 
much use as the last button on a rattlesnake’s tail, 
you are ! ” 

But Marty dodged the unwelcome, old-fashioned 
remedy that night. He slipped away early — pre- 
sumably to bed. Janice was not long in going to 
her room ; but she did not lie down to sleep. When 
the house was dead-still, all save the mice in the 
walls and the solemn ticking of the hall clock, the 
girl arose and dressed for departure. 

The Constance Colfax made her trip down the 
lake in the morning, halting for freight and for any 
chance passengers at the Polktown dock at six 
o’clock. The steamer got into Popham Landing 
before ten o’clock, in time for the morning train to 
Albany. 

Janice was ready for departure long before it was 
time to leave the house. At this time of year it was 


120 The Mission of Janice Day 

quite dark at half-past five. When she crept out 
with her bag the frost was crisp under foot. 

The steamboat was whistling mournfully for the 
landing. She saw nobody astir on Hillside Avenue, 
but when she reached High Street two drummers 
were leaving the Lake View Inn with their sample 
cases. There seemed nobody else going to the 
steamboat dock; Janice drew her veil closer and 
hurried on. 

Walky Dexter did not make an appearance. She 
had heard him say the evening before that all the 
freight and express matter was already at the dock 
and that he could sleep late for once. 

Indeed, it seemed as though everything worked 
in Janice Day’s favor. There was nobody abroad 
to see her, or to object to her departure. 

At home, when the family arose, they would not 
at first think her absence from the kitchen strange. 
Aunt ’Mira would say : “ Oh ! let her sleep a while 
if she will.” 

Janice could hear the tones of her aunt’s voice, 
and her eyelids stung suddenly with unbidden tears. 

Later they would go to her room to call her and 
find the note to Uncle Jason she had left pinned to 
the cushion on her bureau. 


CHAPTER XIII 


MARTY EXPANDS 

We are prone to judge other people from our 
inner secret knowledge of self. When we say we 
think another person would do a certain thing, we 
usually base our opinion upon what we would be 
tempted to do under like circumstances. 

Thus it was that Marty Day knew in his heart 
exactly what his Cousin Janice was about to attempt. 
Why, to use his own effulgent expression, there 
was nothing to it ! ” Of course she would seize the 
first opportunity that opened to go to the Border in 
search of Uncle Brocky. 

Would he not do the same thing himself if his 
father were captured and wounded by the Mexicans ? 
‘‘ A fellow would have to be a regular hard-boiled 
egg to dodge his duty when his father was in such 
trouble,’* the boy told himself; and in Marty’s 
opinion Janice Day was a “ regular fellow.” 

He listened to all the objections raised by the older 
folks just as Janice did. And they made about the 
same impression on him that they did upon his 
cousin. Indeed, he was somewhat angered by the 
way Nelson Haley and Frank Bowman joined in this 
121 


122 The Mission of Janice Day 

advice with the others against the idea of Janice 
going to the Border. 

But, shucks ! ” thought the lad. “ They had to 
talk that way. That conies of being really grown 
up. Right down in their hearts you bet Nelse Haley 
and Frank Bowman are only sorry they can’t go 
down there themselves to hunt for Uncle Brocky.” 

Perhaps Marty was not so far from the truth in 
this surmise. Nelson and Frank were in the early 
years of their manhood. There was something 
very attractive in the idea of starting out on such 
a mission as Janice planned. 

Marty did not hint to his cousin that he suspected 
her intention. But he followed her on that busy 
day — followed every move she made. He was sure 
she had sold her car to Cross Moore. Marty had a 
friend in Middletown to whom he telephoned and 
through whom he learned that both Janice and Mr. 
Moore had been seen in the National Bank. 

He immediately borrowed Frank Bowman’s 
motorcycle and hurried over to Middletown before 
the banks closed. As his father had said, Mrs. Day 
had deposited a “ nest-egg ” for Marty in the sav- 
ings bank and had given him the book. The boy 
proceeded to draw out the money on his account to 
the very last cent of interest. 

“ Hi tunket ! ” he thought as he whizzed back 
toward Polktown. “ It ain’t much ; but it’ll help 
some. 


123 


Marty Expands 

Mebbe dad and ma may need me and my 
money a lot; but Janice is going to need me first — 
of course she is. She can’t go clear ’way down there 
to Mexico alone.'' Which shows that Marty shared 
the general masculine feeling that, being only a 
girl,” Janice could not really carry out her intention. 

She’s got to have a man along whether she thinks 
she needs one or not. And, hi tunket! I’m going 
to be it." 

Marty, however, was not altogether visionary. 
He had made it his business to find out about what 
it would cost to get to the Border, and he realized 
he must have money for other expenses besides his 
car fare. 

On returning the motorcycle to the civil engineer 
he took his courage in both hands and said: 

‘‘ Mr. Bowman, would you do me a great favor? ” 

‘‘I think so, Marty. What is it?” returned 
Frank, smiling into the freckled, perspiring face of 
the boy. Want to borrow my dress suit or a 
hundred dollars ? ” 

The hundred dollars,” Marty told him gasp- 
ingly. 

You don’t mean it ! ” 

Yes, sir ; I do. And I can’t tell you what I want 
it for, nor for how long I’m going to need it. But 
I’ll pay it back.” 

Marty,” said his friend, I’ve got only seventy- 
five dollars handy. Will that do? ” 


124 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ It’ll haf to.” 

'' Do you mean it ? ” demanded the good-natured 
engineer. “ Do you really mean you need it? ” 

“Yes, sir! I need it all right, all right. And I 
don’t want you should ask me what for. And I 
don’t want you should tell anybody.” 

At another time Frank Bowman might have hesi- 
tated. But knowing the trouble Mr. Day was in 
over the Hotchkiss notes, he suspected Marty was 
bent on helping his father with some needed sum of 
money. He took out his notecase and handed the 
seventy-five dollars to Marty in banknotes. 

“ You’re a good fellow, Mr. Bowman,” the boy 
cried. 

“ So are you,” responded the engineer, smiling 
into the lad’s eyes. 

“ ’Tisn’t everybody would trust me like this.” 

“ ’Tisn’t everybody who knows you as well as 
I do, Marty. If you get stuck and can’t pay me 
back right away. I’ll let you work it out when the 
V. C. branch gets to running.” 

That was talking “ man to man ” and Marty’s 
chest swelled. 

“ You won’t be sorry for this,” he assured Frank 
Bowman, and hurried home to supper. 

So he had the money safely fastened in his inside 
vest pocket while he watched his cousin so oddly 
during the evening. When she was helping Aunt 
’Mira with the dishes Marty slipped into Janice’s 


Marty Expands 125 

room. He found her traveling bag in the bottom of 
her closet, packed as he suspected. 

‘‘ Hi tunket ! isn’t she a plucky girl ? ” Marty told 
himself. “ I’m just proud to be her cousin, so I 
am ! We’ll have some time down there among the 
greasers, believe me ! ” 

Marty owned a shotgun and he was tempted to 
take it along. But he thought better of that. He 
could not very well hide it while traveling on the 
train. 

“ B’sides I reckon rifles, or these here automatics, 
are more fashionable down there on the Border,” 
the boy ruminated. 

Bedtime came and he, like Janice, was too ex- 
cited to sleep. He was afraid he might sleep, how- 
ever, and, knowing his failing, he determined to ar- 
range matters so that he could not possibly miss the 
boat in the morning. 

Putting a pair of clean socks and an extra hand- 
kerchief in one jacket pocket, and a clean collar in 
another (for Marty believed in traveling light), 
he climbed out over the shed roof before midnight 
and carefully descended to the ground by the grape 
arbor route. Making his way to the wharf he 
curled up on some bags in front of the freight-house 
door. Nobody could unlock and open that door 
without disturbing him; but the chill morning air 
awoke him in plenty of season. 

When the steamboat bumped into the dock Marty 


126 


The Mission of Janice Day 

was right at hand to catch the bow hawser. It was 
still dark and he slipped aboard without being 
noticed. 

The Constance Colfax boasted no staterooms; 
but the few all-night passengers from up the lake 
were sprawled about the unventilated cabin in a 
somnolent state. Marty only peeped in at them, 
and then ensconced himself on deck where he could 
watch the gangplank. 

He saw his cousin in her heavy veil come aboard. 
She, too, preferred to remain on deck, cold as it was, 
to going into the stuffy cabin. Janice was warmly 
dressed and the morning was clear. When the 
Constance Colfax got under way again she watched 
the few twinkling lights of Polktown and the stars 
overhead fade out as the sky grew rosy above the 
mountain tops. 

The boat was well out of the cove when the sun 
came up. A brisk wind whipped up the whitecaps. 
Sheltered in the lee of the little deckhouse, Janice 
was left to herself and to her thoughts save when 
the purser came around for her fare. 

‘‘ Didn’t take on no crowd at Polktown, Miss,” he 
observed genially. “ Only you and three more.” 

Janice had noticed only the two traveling sales- 
men; but she made no comment. She did not 
suppose she was in the least interested in that fourth 
passenger whom she had not seen. 

At last they reached the Landing. The railroad 


127 


Marty Expands 

here was only a branch line and the cars were 
old-fashioned and uncomfortable. She could get 
no good accommodations to Albany she well 
knew, so she bought a ticket only as far as that 
city. 

Had she intended going south and west by way 
of New York she would have been obliged to make 
some arrangement to get over to Middletown to 
take the train there. This might have caused com- 
ment. Besides, from what Frank Bowman had 
said, she believed she could save both time and 
money by taking the Great Lakes route. 

There were three day coaches in the little train 
already made up at the Landing. Janice chose a 
seat in the middle coach without any idea that some- 
body in whom she would have been very much 
interested stole into the rear car before the train 
started. 

Marty dared not go to the ticket office, for fear 
his cousin might look out of the car-window and 
see him. But he was quite sure Janice was bound 
for Albany first, and he paid his fare to that point 
when the conducter came through. 

It was a tiring ride, with stops at “ everybody’s 
barnyard gate,” and the coaches filled up and were 
half emptied again two or three times during the 
journey. Janice had made no preparation for 
luncheon and once when the train halted at a junc- 
tion ten minutes for refreshments ” as the brake- 


128 


The Mission of Janice Day 

man bawled it out, she could find nothing in the 
bare and dirty lunchroom fit to eat or drink. 

When she returned, hopeless and hungry, to her 
seat there was a neatly wrapped shoebox lying on 
the dusty plush cushion. 

Why ! whose is this ? ’’ she involuntarily asked 
aloud. 

“ Isn't it for you, my dear? ” asked a woman who 
occupied the seat directly behind hers and to whom 
Janice had already spoken. 

The girl picked up the package and read scrawled 
upon it in an entirely unfamiliar handwriting: 
“ Miss Janice Day." 

‘‘ Oh ! it has my name on it," Janice admitted. 
** But I don’t know a thing about it." She was 
rather frightened. Somebody had recognized her. 
Somebody knew she had run away and must be 
watching and following her. ‘‘ Who — who put it 
here?" she asked the woman in the next seat. 

‘‘ Why, you are actually pale, child ! " laughed 
the matron, who had her own well filled lunch 
basket open in her lap. “ You don’t suppose it is 
an infernal machine? It looks like a box of lunch 
to me." 

Yes, I know," said Janice faintly. “ But I can’t 
imagine who could have left it here for me. It has 
my name on it." 

“ A brakeman left it," explained the woman. 
“ Leastwise it was a man with a railroad cap on. 


129 


Marty Expands 

Open it. I should not question the goods the gods 
provide. You found nothing fit to eat in that sta- 
tion, I am sure.’’ 

The train was already moving on. Janice sat 
down and opened the package. There was first of 
all a thermos bottle filled with hot tea. There were 
ham sandwiches — more satisfying as to thickness 
than delicacy, perhaps — a slab of plum cake and 
several solid looking doughnuts with a piece of 
creamy cheese. 

It was more like a workman’s lunch than one 
put up to tempt the appetite of a traveler; but 
Janice was hungry and she finally ate every crumb 
of it. 

She examined the thermos bottle very carefully, 
searching for some mark upon it that might reveal 
the identity of the owner. Why ! she could not even 
return the bottle, and it must have cost almost a 
dollar. She remembered that Marty had sent off 
to a catalog house for one like this and it had cost 
him eighty-five cents. 

After she had eaten the hearty luncheon she went 
back and spoke to the brakeman. But he denied 
knowing anything about the package or having 
placed it in her seat. The forward brakeman made 
a similar statement. She even asked the conductor 
about it with the same result. 

“ I certainly would not worry about it, my dear,” 
the comfortable matron behind Janice said. “ Some 


130 The Mission of Janice Day 

friend of yours has played a joke upon you — and a 
very kind joke, I call it.” 

''Yes. But who?” murmured Janice Day, feel- 
ing much worried indeed. 

" Somebody got aboard at that station to deliver 
the box and you were out of your seat ” 

" But how did he know it was my seat ? ” de- 
manded Janice. 

" Saw you through the window as the train 
stopped,” suggested the friendly woman. "Of 
course, I only thought it was the brakeman who 
brought it. I did not really pay attention.” 

This explanation did not go far enough to relieve 
Janice’s mind. She could not imagine who had 
planned the surprise. Nobody, she felt sure, knew 
she was leaving Polktown but Mr. Cross Moore. 
And surely he would not do a thoughtful thing like 
this. 

It was a mystery bound to trouble her a great 
deal. She did not know who might bob up before 
her at almost any place and try to make her go back 
to her uncle and aunt. 

The girl was determined to withstand this de- 
mand, no matter who made it. If Uncle Jason 
himself had followed her Janice Day was sure she 
should keep right on in her intent. Or Nelson 

" It can’t be Nelson. He couldn’t leave his school 
for even a day,” the girl thought. " And he surely 
did not believe I meant to go when I saw him last 


Marty Expands 131 

evening, or he would not have taken what I said so 
coolly. Who could it be?” 

Not for a moment did Janice suspect the truth. 
She had no idea that a familiar, boyish figure sat 
in a rear seat of the rear coach, his hat pulled well 
down over his eyes, eating from a box of lunch 
similar to that she had found in her seat. That is, 
lacking nothing but the bottle of tea. Marty owned 
only one thermos bottle. He had wheedled the cook 
on board the Constance Colfax to put up the two 
lunches for him ; but he washed his own down with 
water from the tank at the end of the car. 

Marty was already beginning what he considered 
to be his necessary oversight of Janice on this jour- 
ney. He was quite sure a girl who did not think 
of lunch was not fit to travel alone! 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE BLACK-EYED WOMAN 

The train arrived at Albany about dusk. Janice, 
disturbed by the incident of the mysterious lunch, 
half expected to be met by a telegram ordering her 
to return to Polktown. Or perhaps something worse 
and harder to cope with. But she told herself that 
not even a uniformed policeman should make her 
return! She was secretly very glad to be able to 
get out of the station without being involved in 
any difficulty of this kind. 

She had studied the time-tables and knew which 
train to take out of Albany. Realizing the long and 
tedious journey before her, she concluded that it 
would be the part of wisdom to secure berth reser- 
vation right through to El Paso. 

Whether or no she should remain on the train 
as far as that Border city, Janice did not at this 
time decide. She knew that direct communication 
with San Cristoval and the Alderdice Mine lay 
through the desert country below El Paso, and she 
must be guided a good deal by what she learned en 
route. Her father had an army friend at Fort Han- 
cock. She might stop off there to make inquiries. 

132 


133 


The Black-eyed Woman 

However, she bought her ticket with berth 
coupons to El Paso, and then went to dinner. She 
had two hours to wait for the Chicago express, a 
reservation on which her special ticket called for. 

She had no idea, did Janice, just how much 
trouble and worry of mind she was causing a certain 
boy who had trailed her from one railroad station 
to the other with much care that she should not ob- 
serve his presence. When Marty sidled up to the 
ticket window after Janice was gone and asked for 
a ticket to “ just where that girl bought hers for,’’ 
the agent certainly did stare at him. 

What’s all this for ? ” he asked Marty sus- 
piciously. Are you following that young lady ? ” 
Naw,” said Marty gruffly. I’m goin’ with 
her.” 

‘‘ Oh I you are? Who says so? ” 

I do,” the boy declared. “ D’you think I’m 
goin’ to let her go clear ’way down there to Mexico 
alone looking for her father?” 

‘‘ Hi ! ” exclaimed the man, growing interested, 
there being no other person waiting at the moment. 

Who are yow.?” 

Say! you keep it to yourself, will you? ” urged 
Marty anxiously. I’m her cousin. What’ll a ticket 
cost just like hers? Her dad’s been wounded down 
there in Mexico and she thinks she can go there 
alone and bring him back. I can’t let her do that, 
can I?” 


134 


The Mission of Janice Day 

'' Hasn’t she any other folks ? ” asked the ticket 
seller doubtfully. 

Her dad’s all she’s got,” Marty declared. “ But 
I’m going to see her through.” 

Well, it was not the ticket seller’s business. He 
named the sum it would cost Marty to go on that 
special train. 

“Hi tunket! I don’t want to buy the train,” 
gasped the boy. “ I only want to ride on it.” 

“ Special ticket on this train to Chicago. And 
berth all the way through to El Paso. I can give 
you a cheaper rate on another train, however, my 
son.” 

“ But I got to be on the same train as her to look 
out for her,” observed Marty. “ Hi tunket ! berth 
clear through, heh ? I’ll have to sleep day an’ night 
to get my money’s worth.” 

“ It’s the best I can do for you.” 

Marty groaned, but paid like a man. It made a 
dreadful hole in his capital. He ate his dinner in 
a lunchroom through the window of which he could 
watch the exit of the restaurant to which his cousin 
had gone for her evening meal. 

“ Take it from me girls don’t have no idea about 
spending money,” Marty groaned, swallowing the 
last mouthful of a ten cent plate of beef stew as he 
saw Janice leave the restaurant. “ The sign on that 
window over there says : ‘ Dinner seventy-five cents.’ 
Hi tunket ! How can anybody eat seventy-five cents 


The Black-eyed Woman 135 

worth of victuals to once’t? I never knew Janice 
had that capacity/' 

Marty had insisted upon being given a reserva- 
tion in another car from that in which Janice was to 
ride. He was glad to note when the long train 
rolled in that his was a rear car. Janice would ride 
next to the dining car. 

The boy had no use for the dining car or buffet. 
He had supplied himself with a box of cheap lunch. 
If his cousin had money to throw to the birdies," 
as Marty privately expressed it, not so the son of 
Mr. Jason Day of Polktown ! After all he had said 
about his father being a “ tight-wad ” Marty found 
that it positively hurt to spend more for a thing 
than he believed it was worth. 

He made sure that Janice with her bag boarded 
the train. He was one of the last to get on him- 
self, thus making sure that nothing had happened 
to cause his cousin to alight again. 

But Janice, relieved because she had seen nobody 
from Polktown, found herself very pleasantly situ- 
ated in her car. Nobody had interfered with her 
in any way. The lunch given her on the train to 
Albany was a most mysterious thing; but whoever 
had given it to her seemed not desirous of halting 
her determined course. 

Janice had secured an upper berth; but she did not 
mind that. She found that the woman who was to 
occupy the one beneath was already on the train. 


136 The Mission of Janice Day 

She was a black-eyed, dark, rather Oriental-look- 
ing person, and Janice thought her quite handsome 
in a majestic way. And she possessed an engaging 
smile. 

“You are traveling alone, my dear — yes?” the 
woman asked her with an intonation distinctly 
foreign. “ All the way to Chicago ? ” 

“ And beyond,” Janice said pleasantly. 

“ Ach! You American girls are wonderfully in- 
dependent — yes? Friends will meet you at your 
journey’s end? ” 

“No. I expect nobody to meet me,” Janice told 
her quite sadly. She did not care to take the woman 
into her complete confidence, although she seemed 
to be a very pleasant person. 

The black-eyed woman lent her a magazine during 
the evening, as the train rumbled on across New 
York State. She was friendly, but not too press- 
ing in her attentions and certainly Janice was 
unsuspicious. 

At nine o’clock the porter began to arrange the 
berths. Janice went to the ladies’ room and found 
the foreign-looking woman there. As the girl, in 
her dressing-sack which she had taken out of her 
bag, combed out her hair, the sharp, black eyes of 
her fellow-passenger spied something. 

“ You carry something valuable there? ” she said, 
touching lightly with her finger the packet of bank- 
notes the girl had pinned to the bosom of her waist. 


The Black-eyed Woman 137 

“ And with only a common pin ? Ach ! that is un- 
safe, my dear.” 

Janice had folded the bills in a silk handkerchief ; 
but of course the woman could feel just what the 
crisp notes were. 

“ I think they will be all right,” the girl said, 
shrinking a little from the woman’s touch, yet 
without feeling any real fear of her or of her 
intentions. 

“ See ! ” the other said as though wishing only 
to be helpful. “ I haf a big safety pin here in my 
bag — see ? We will use it to fasten your packet — 
soh. Iss that not much better ? ” 

Janice could only thank her and smile. Really one 
could not take offense at such a kind act nor be 
suspicious of so kindly a person. 

Having lost her previous night’s sleep it was not 
strange that Janice should sleep soundly, even on 
this rushing train. Occasionally she aroused to 
the knowledge of the wheels clattering over 
switches, or hollowly roaring as the train crossed a 
long trestle. The night sped — and the train with 
it. She was far, far away from Polktown when 
she awoke. 

Again her berth mate was before her in the dress- 
ing room. “ Iss your money still safe, my dear ? ” 
the black-eyed woman asked. 

“ Oh, yes,” laughed Janice, ‘‘ I am not at all afraid 
of losing it.” 


138 The Mission of Janice Day 

You are so different. Me, I am always feeling 
to see if my jewel-bag iss safe. Oh, yes!^’ 

Janice, having no jewels, was not much interested ; 
though it seemed odd that the black-eyed woman 
should have her mind so fixed on robbery. 

Before the train reached Chicago the woman had 
made herself very friendly with Janice. The latter 
refrained from telling her new acquaintance just 
why she was going to the Southwest, and alone, save 
that she expected to find her father there and that 
she was anxious about him. 

You will remain over a day in Chicago to rest? ” 
queried the woman. “ You haf friends there — 
yes?” 

Oh, no. We are going to arrive in good time. 
I know the schedule perfectly,” Janice assured her. 
“ I shall go right on.” 

It was not until then that the black-eyed woman 
revealed the fact that she, too, was going on beyond 
Chicago. It seemed odd to Janice that her fellow- 
traveler should not before have acknowledged that 
Chicago was not her destination, still she gave the 
matter little thought. She did not tell her name to 
the girl. Indeed, Janice did not reveal her own 
name during their conversation. 

The woman asked Janice very particularly about 
the route over which the girl was to travel and then, 
consulting an ivory-bound memorandum book she 
carried, in which Janice could not help seeing the 


The Black-eyed Woman 139' 

notes were written in some foreign language, the 
woman murmured. 

‘‘ Ach, yes ! It iss so. My dear, I can be your 
fellow-passenger for many hundred miles farther. 
Ach! such a great country as it iss. I shall see 
about having my routing changed at once. We may 
travel together yet a far way. And we are such 
goot friends.” 

Janice felt somewhat abashed at this clajm. She 
enjoyed the black-eyed woman’s conversation; but 
she was not strongly drawn toward her. If they 
were such '' goot friends ” the feeling of friendship 
must be mostly on Madam’s side. 

For it was as ‘‘ Madam ” that Janice knew the 
woman. It seemed to fit, and she seemed to expect 
its use. She was a very interesting person, the girl 
thought, and naturally she was curious about the 
black-eyed woman. 

There was an hour’s wait at Chicago, and when 
Janice and her acquaintance left the train together 
it was to enter a dense throng in the train-shed. 

“ Be careful, my dear,” whispered Janice’s com- 
panion warningly. ‘‘ Keep your coat buttoned across 
your chest. No knowing — ^pickpockets always in 
big crowds are — yes.” 

Janice was inclined to smile; but as her com- 
panion walked closely upon one side of her she felt 
herself being shouldered roughly on the other hand. 

She turned sharply and with an exclamation. Her 


140 The Mission of Janice Day 

coat was torn open by some means. Janice wore a 
loose-fitting blouse and it w^s not easy to be certain 
that a hand was at her bosom. 

‘‘ Look ! that boy ! ” hissed Madam in the girl’s 
ear. Such a shrewd-faced rascal. Ach ! I believe 
he tried to rob you.” 

Janice, clutching quickly at her blouse over the 
packet of banknotes, knew her money was safe. 
She only saw the back of the boy to whom Madam 
referred. 

“Why!” Janice Day murmured. “He isn’t a 
bit bigger than Marty. Do — do you really think 
he tried to rob me, Madam ? ” 

“ Sure of it I ” announced her companion with em- 
phasis. “ Ach, yes I We know so little about those 
we meet in a crowd, my dear.” 


CHAPTER XV 


A SHOCK TO POLKTOWN 

Marty Day^ who was neither a prophet nor a 
person of much moment in his native town, was, 
of all Janice’s friends, the only one who really be- 
lieved the girl would put her desire into action. 

To tell the truth, even Cross Moore, who had 
bought Janice’s automobile and who held the original 
bill of sale of the car, upon the possession of which 
he had insisted, scarcely believed the girl would get 
out of town without being halted by her uncle. 

Nelson Haley did not suppose for a ‘‘ single soli- 
tary moment ” that Janice meant what she said 
when she bade him good-bye in his study. The next 
day he went to school without an idea that Janice 
was already on her way to the Border. He missed 
Marty Day, but did not think there was anything 
significant in the boy’s absence. 

School was over for the day and Nelson was leav- 
ing the building, bidding good-day to Bennie Thread, 
the janitor, when Walky Dexter drove through the 
side street, urging Josephus in a most disgraceful 
way. 

‘^Git up, there, ye pernicious pest!” Walky 
141 


142 


The Mission of Janice Day 

shouted to his old horse, thrashing him with the 
wornout whip he carried and which never, by any 
possibility, could hurt the rawboned animal. 
''Gidap! Jefers-pelters, Schoolmaster! is thet 
you?” he suddenly demanded, seeing Nelson. 
Josephus stopped immediately. He well knew 
Walky’s conversational tone. “ Hev ye heard 
about it?” sputtered the expressman. 

“ Heard what ? ” asked Nelson calmly. Sure 
you are not overexerting yourself? Your face is 
very red, Walky. Perspiration at this time of 


** Oh, you go fish ! ” exclaimed Walky. ‘‘ Mr. 
Haley! I got suthin' ter tell ye. I kin see well 
enough ye ain’t wise to it.” 

“ Walky,” said the young schoolmaster solemnly, 
“ there are really a lot of things in this life that I 
am not wise to, as you call it, and I doubt if I shall 
ever understand them all.” 

“Oh! is that so?” retorted Walky Dexter. 
“ Wal, ril perceed ter wise ye up to one thing right 
now. Ain’t ye missed Marty to-day ? ” 

“ Marty Day? ” 

“ Yep. That’s the young scalawag.” 

“ He has been absent from school — yes.” 

“ Oh ! he has? D’ye know where he’s gone to? ” 

“ Why, no.” 

“ And neither does nobody else,” declared the ex- 
pressman excitedly. “Unless he’s gone off with 


A Shock to Polktown 143 

Janice — an’ she never said a thing about him, I 
understand.” 

The expressman’s word’s amazed Nelson quite as 
much as Walky could have wished. 

“ What are you talking about ? What do you 
mean by saying Janice has gone away?” 

“ Jefers-pelters ! ” ejaculated Walky. Ain’t you 
hearn a thing about it ? ” 

“ No.” 

Wal then, you better lift a laig an’ git up to 
the ol’ Day house,” Walky observed. ‘‘If ye ever 
seen a stir-about ye’ll see one there. I dunno but 
ol’ Jase’ll hev a fit an’ step in it. And as for Miz’ 
Day, she’s jest erbout dissolved in tears by now, 
as the feller said. An’, believe me ! if she does dis- 
solve there’ll purt’ nigh be a deluge on this hill- 
side, an’ no mistake ! ” 

Before he had finished and clucked to the sleep- 
ing Josephus, Nelson Haley had reached the corner 
of Hillside Avenue and was striding up the ascent to 
the Day house. He saw several people come to their 
front doors, and he knew they would have hailed 
him had he given them a chance. Everybody seemed 
to be aware of this startling happening but himself. 

He went into the kitchen of the Day house with- 
out knocking. His gaze fell upon the ample Mrs. 
Day weaving to and fro in her rocking chair, her 
apron to her eyes, while Uncle Jason was sitting 
dejectedly in his chair upon the other side of the 


144 The Mission of Janice Day 

stove, with his dead pipe clutched fast between his 
teeth. 

“ Mr. Haley ! the man exclaimed. ‘‘ Have a 
cheer.’’ 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” sobbed Aunt ’Mira, shaking like a 
mold of jelly. 

‘‘ I don’t want a chair ! ” ejaculated Nelson, plac- 
ing his bag on the uncleared dining table. Tve 
just heard of it. What does it mean? ” 

“ She’s gone,” Uncle Jason said gloomily. 

They've gone,” sobbed Aunt ’Mira. 

We dunno that — not for sure. We don’t know 
they’re gone together. Janice didn’t say a thing 
about Marty in her letter,” and he pointed to an 
open letter on the table. “ Read it, Mr. Haley,” he 
added. 

The schoolmaster seized the note Janice had left 
on her pin-cushion and read : 

“ Dear Uncle and Aunt : 

‘‘ You must not blame me or think too hard of 
me. I have just got to go. Daddy needs me. I 
am sure I can find him. I could not stay idly in 
Polktown and wait any longer. I will telegraph you 
when I reach the Border. Don’t blame me. I just 
have to go! Love. Janice.” 

“ I might have known it ! I might have known 
it ! ” muttered the schoolmaster. 


A Shock to Polktown 145 

“Ye might have known what? '' demanded Mr. 
Day. 

“ That she meant what she said. She told me last 
evening she was going, and I didn’t believe her.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Haley ! ” cried Aunt ’Mira. “ And ye 
didn’t tell us in time ” 

“ In time for what ? ” exploded her husband. 
“ Hi Guy ! I’d like to see any man stop any female 
when she’s sot on doin’ a thing.” 

“ But she’s gone alone clear down there to 
Mexico and ” 

“ Where’s Marty? ” demanded Nelson. 

“ Oh ! she don’t say nothin’ about him,” sobbed 
the woman. “ His bed ain’t been slep’ in, an ” 

“If Marty has disappeared, too,” the schoolmaster 
said with decision, “you can be sure he is with 
her.” 

“Do ye believe so?” asked Mr. Day doubtfully. 
“ Seems to me she wouldn’t have encouraged the 
boy to go off that-a-way.” 

“ Of course not,” Nelson agreed. “ But I have 
an idea that, of all of us, Marty was the wisest. 
You’ll learn he suspected Janice of planning to go 
away ^nd he has gone with her, or followed her.” 

“ That boy ! ” ejaculated his mother. 

“ If he has ” began Uncle Jason; but Nelson 

continued : 

“ I have considerable confidence in Marty. At 
least, he is a courageous young rascal. I fancy he 


146 The Mission of Janice Day 

has followed Janice, unknown to her, and with the 
desire of helping her.” 

But he is only a bo-o-oy,” wailed his mother 
again. 

“ Say ! ” Uncle Jason said suddenly, he's a good 
deal of a man, come to think on't. I b’lieve you air 
right, Mr. Haley.” 

‘‘ That does not, however,” said Nelson, shaking 
his head, “ change the fact that Janice, even with 
such an escort as Marty, should not go down there. 
I am greatly worried.” 

“ Wal, don’t you think we be? ” demanded Uncle 
Jason. 

‘‘ Yes. I know how you must feel. But think 
how / feel, Mr. Day,” the schoolmaster said gently. 

I believe I should have thrown up everything when 
she told me she was determined to go, and have 
accompanied her instead of letting Marty do it.” 

I snum ! ” ejaculated Mr. Day, “ don’t I feel 
jest the same way? Janice is a do something gal, 
sure enough. We’d oughter knowed she wouldn’t 
sit quiet to home here when Broxton was in sech 
trouble.” 

“ But she’s only a gal ! ” repeated his wife. 

She’s a diff’rent gal from most,” declared Mr. 
Day. 

“And poor Marty! How’d he ever get money 
enough to go with her ? ” mourned the good woman. 

“His bankbook’s gone,” said Mr. Day. “He’s 


A Shock to Polktown 


147 


proberly took ev’ry cent he could rake an’ scrape. 
You would give him that bankbook to keep, Almiry.” 

“ Oh ! oh ! ” sobbed Mrs. Day. 

But — but how did Janice get money enough to 
take such a long journey?” asked Nelson hesitat- 
ingly. 

“ Sold her ortermobile,” stated Uncle Jason 
gruffly. 

“ No!” 

‘‘ Yes, she did. I been over to Cross Moore’s an’ 
put it right up to him. You know what he is. He’d 
buy a cripple’s wooden laig if he could see his way 
ter makin’ a profit on it. He got the car at a cheap 
price, I calculate, and agreed to say nothing about it 
till arter Janice had gone. Oh ! I ain’t worried about 
Janice’s means. It’s what may happen to her down 
there.” 

“ She can’t get beyond the Border,” Nelson de- 
clared. 

“ We don’t know. You know how detarmined 
Janice is. I snum! we’d ought er know her de- 
tarmination now.” 

“ It don’t matter. Nothin’ don’t matter,” Mrs. 
Day groaned. “ She’s gone — an’ Marty’s gone. 
An’ what ever will become of ’em ’way down there 
among them murderin’ Mexicaners ” 

“ Well, well, Almiry! They ain’t got there yet,” 
put in Mr. Day. 

Nelson Haley had never felt so helpless in all his 


148 The Mission of Janice Day 

life. Not even when charged with stealing a col- 
lection of gold coins that had been intrusted to the 
care of the School Committee, had the young man 
felt any more uncertain as to his future course. 
What should he do ? Indeed, what could he do now 
that Janice had really departed from Polktown ? 

Whether it would have been quite the proper thing 
or not for him to have accompanied the girl on her 
long journey, did not now enter into the situation. 
Janice was gone and he was here — and he felt him- 
self to be a rather useless sort of fellow. He now 
thought very seriously of the last words Janice had 
spoken to him the day before : 

“If it were you who were wounded and alone 
down there in Mexico do you suppose any power on 
earth would keep me from going to you ? ’’ 

The schoolmaster's heart thrilled again at the 
thought. She meant it — of course she did ! Janice, 
he should have known, always meant what she said. 

But now, in the light of her courageous action in 
leaving alone for the Border, the memory of her 
words impressed the young man more deeply. She 
would have dared any danger, she intimated, had it 
been Nelson who she believed needed her; why 
should he have doubted for a moment that she was 
brave enough to seek her wounded father? 

“ I’m a selfish, ignorant fool ! ” Nelson railed in 
secret. “ I do not deserve to be loved by such a girl. 
I don’t half appreciate her. What a helpless, in- 


A Shock to Polktown 


149 


effectual thing I am! And what now can I do to 
aid or encourage her? Nothing! I have lost my 
chance. What can she think of me? ’’ 

He thus took himself to task that evening in his 
study. The whole town rang with the story of 
Janice’s departure and with the belief that Marty 
Day had either accompanied his cousin or followed 
her in a boyish attempt to assist in her mission. 

She ain’t like other gals,” Mrs. Beaseley 
mourned at the supper table. ''Do have another 
helpin’ of col’ meat, Mr. Haley — an’ try this per- 
tater salad. It’s by a new receipt. 

“ I count her quite able ter take keer of herself 
ord’narily, Mr. Haley. What worries me is her 
eatin’,” added the widow, passing the plate of hot 
biscuits to her boarder. 

“If folks don’t eat right, as my sainted Charles 
often said, they ain’t got the chance’ t of a rabbit 
when anythin’ happens ’em. No, sir! Do eat that 
quarter o’ layer cake, Mr. Haley. ’Tis the las’ piece 
an’ I do despise to make a fresh cake while there’s 
any of the old left. 

“ The eatin’ on them trains an’ in them railroad 
stations, they tell me, is somethin’ drefful. I hope 
you’ll make out a supper, Mr. Haley.” 

Hopewell Drugg, in a worried state of mind, came 
across the street to consult Nelson. He did not 
know what his wife would do or say when she 
learned that Janice had left town. 


150 The Mission of Janice Day 

I sincerely hope Miss Janice will find her father 
and bring him back to Polktown soon,’’ the store- 
keeper said. 

Do you believe she can? ** asked the school- 
master, rather startled. 

“ Why not ? ” was Hopewell’s response. ‘‘ She 
has never yet, to my knowledge, failed in anything 
she has set out to do.” 

This statement furnished Nelson with another 
positive shock. Not for a moment had he con- 
sidered that Janice would accomplish what she had 
set about doing. It seemed impossible to his mind 
that a mere girl could get into Mexico and return 
again with her wounded father. Yet here was 
Hopewell Drugg implicitly believing in her ultimate 
success ! 

Mrs. Scattergood buzzed like a very cross bumble- 
bee. She seemed only too glad that Janice had done 
something to shock Polktown. 

“ Wal ! what could you expect from a gal that’s 
alius had her own way an’ been allowed to go ahead 
an’ boss things the way Janice Day has? I don’t 
approve of these new-fashioned gals. What dif- 
f ’rent could ye expec’ ? ” 

“That’s a fac’,” agreed Marm Parraday, who 
chanced to be the recipient of this opinion. “Ye 
could expec’ Janice Day to do just what she done — 
an’ I tell ’em all so. She ain’t no namby-pamby, 
Susie-Sozzles sort of a gal — no, ma’am ! 


A Shock to Polktown 


151 


Lem says he doesn’t see how she found the 
pluck to do it. But it didn’t s’prise me none, Miz’ 
Scattergood. A gal that’s done what Janice Day 
has for, and in, Polktown is jest as able to do 
things down there in Mexico.” 

‘‘ Why, haow you talk ! ” gasped Mrs. Scatter- 
good, finding to her amazement that the hotel- 
keeper’s wife did not at all agree with her opinion of 

Janice. ‘‘ She’s nothin’ but a gal. In aoiir day ” 

‘‘ Ye-as, I know,” admitted Marm Parraday. 
** When we was gals women’s rights and women’s 
doin’s warn’t much hearn tell on. Still, Miz’ Scat- 
tergood, I wasn’t so meek as I know on. But mebbe, 
women was mostly chattels — like horses an’ — an’ 
chickens. But if that was so, that day’s gone by, 
thanks be! An’ it’s gone by in Polktown a deal 
because of this same Janice Day. Oh, yes ! I know 
what she’s done here, an’ all about it. Mebbe she 
didn’t know she was a-doin’ of it. But if Polktown 
ever erects a statue to the one person more than an- 
other that ’woke it up, it’ll hafter be the figger of 
jest a gal, with a strapful o’ schoolbooks in one hand, 
the other hand held out friendly-like, and that queer, 
sweetenin’ little smile of Janice on its face.” 

Yes, Janice and what she had done was the single 
topic of conversation all over town that night. 
Those who knew her best did not call her mission a 
“ silly, child’s trick.” Oh, no, indeed ! 

Down the hill below Hopewell Drugg’s store and 


152 The Mission of Janice Day 

below the widow’s home where Nelson lodged, in 
the nearest house indeed to Pine Cove on that street, 
and to Lottie’s echo, Mr. Cross Moore sat with his 
invalid wife. The usual orphan from the county 
asylum who was just then doing penance for her 
sins in acting as Mrs. Moore’s maid, had gone to 
bed. The woman in her wheel-chair watched Mr. 
Moore from under frowning brows. 

‘‘ I expect you think. Cross Moore, that you’ve 
done a smart trick — a-buyin’ that car so’t Janice Day 
could get out o’ town. The neighbors air all talkin’ 
about it.” 

“ Oh, I wouldn’t worry, Mother,” the man said 
quietly. Janice is all right. She’ll make good. 
She’s quite a smart gal, is Janice.” 

‘‘ Ha ! ” snapped the invalid. ‘‘ That may be. I 
guess it’s so. She pulled the wool over your eyes, 
I don’t doubt. That ol’ contraption she sold you 
ain’t wuth ha’f what ye paid for it. Cross Moore.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


MARTY RUNS INTO TROUBLE 

Janice Day was tired. She had to admit that. 
But she would not stop over in Chicago even twenty- 
four hours to rest. 

There is scarcely any way of traveling that so eats 
up the reserve forces of even a perfectly well person 
as an unaccustomed ride on the rail. No matter how 
comfortable seats and berths may be, the confine- 
ment, the continual jar of the train, and the utter 
change from the habits of the usual daily life quite 
bear down the spirit of the traveler. 

Especially is the person traveling alone affected. 
Janice really was glad she had the companionship of 
Madam on her journey beyond Chicago. Although 
the thoughts of the black-eyed woman seemed to 
run strongly to robbery, she was not lacking in in- 
formation and could talk amusingly of her travels. 

She seemed familiar with Europe as well as with 
much of America. Her knowledge of the Latin- 
American countries, however, exceeded that of the 
United States. Just what nationality she was Janice 
could not guess, although she believed there was 
some Hebraic blood in Madam’s veins. 

153 


154 The Mission of Janice Day 

However, the woman so succeeded in impressing 
Janice regarding the care of her remaining bank- 
notes that before their train left Chicago the girl 
took the precaution to secrete her money in a dif- 
ferent place upon her person. At the same time, 
she folded up a piece of newspaper into a packet 
and pinned it to the place in her corsage where the 
notes had been. 

“ It does no harm to do this — and say nothing 
about it,’^ thought Janice demurely. 

Madam made her change in transportation with 
some skill, and had again secured the berth under 
that assigned to Janice. They sat together by day, 
conversing or reading, and always took their meals 
together in the dining car. 

Had Janice known that behind her in the same 
train, rode her Cousin Marty, she would have been 
both amazed and troubled. 

Marty held to his ticket on this train ; but he had 
seen a chance to sell his berth, and, frugal Yankee 
that he was, he had done this. 

“ Hi tunket ! ” the boy told himself, “ that ticket 
seller thought mebbe he put one over on me when 
he made me buy a berth reservation clean through. 
But to my mind those berths ainT a bit more com- 
fortable than a seat in a day coach.” For there was 
a day coach attached to this train. 

He said this after he had overheard a man in the 
smoking compartment complaining about his in- 


155 


Marty Runs Into Trouble 

ability to obtain the reservation of a berth at 
Chicago. There was nothing timid about Marty 
Day. He immediately marched up to the man and 
drove a bargain with him worthy of Uncle Jason 
himself. 

Every little bit helps/’ remarked Marty, as he 
folded the bills the man gave him and tucked them 
with the rest of his little wad down into the bottom 
of his inside vest pocket, pinning the money there 
for safety. 

Marty was not disturbed in the least about losing 
his funds, whether Janice was or not. And he con- 
tinued to be fully as frugal in his expenditures as 
he had been at first. 

At Chicago Marty had had a very close call — or 
thought he had. In the crowd in the station he 
almost ran into Janice. She was with the black-eyed 
woman and that was probably why his cousin had 
not noticed him. But it had been near ! 

He did not know just how Janice would take his 
surveillance, and the boy had decided it would be 
better for him to remain in the background unless 
something extraordinary happened and not reveal 
himself to her until they reached the Border. 

So, to make his identification by his cousin doubly 
impossible, as he thought, Marty used the hour’s 
wait at Chicago to supply himself with a disguise! 

It is not on record that any boy ever lived who 
did not, at some stage of his career, dream of put- 


156 The Mission of Janice Day 

ting on some simple disguise and appearing before 
his friends and family as ‘‘ the mysterious stranger.” 
Marty was not exempt from the usual kinds of 
boyish folly. He bought and affixed to his upper 
lip a small black mustache. 

The sturdy, freckled-faced boy with the stubby 
mustache stuck upon his lip, made a very amusing 
appearance. Under close scrutiny the falsity of his 
hirsute adornment was easily detected, of course. 

The gentleman who had boarded the train at 
Chicago too late to obtain a berth was vastly amused 
by Marty’s assumption of maturity. Marty’s voice 
was beginning to change and that alone would have 
revealed his youth in spite of a full growth of 
whiskers. 

You’re pretty young to be traveling alone,” this 
gentleman remarked to Marty after the deal for the 
berth had been consummated. “ Although I see you 
have all your wits about you, young man.” 

“ Oh, I dunno,” drawled the boy from Polktown, 
trying to stroke the mustache with a knowing air. 

“ I can see the mustache,” grinned Marty’s fellow- 
traveler. “ But it isn’t a very good fit and it cer- 
tainly does not match your hair. That down on your 
cheek, young fellow, is a dead give away. I’d take 
off the mustache if I were you.” 

Marty flushed like a boiling lobster. I — I 

can’t,” he stuttered. 

‘‘Why not?” 


157 


Marty Runs Into Trouble 

Marty confessed — partially. He told about his 
cousin in the other car and how he had come on this 
long journey very secretly to watch over and protect 
Janice. 

Despite the evident ignorance of the boy there 
was something about his actions that impressed this 
man with the really fine qualities of Marty’s char- 
acter. He asked the boy : 

“ Have you telegraphed back to your father to 
reassure him of your safety — ahem — ^and your 
cousin’s ? ” 

No,” Marty said. “ That runs into money, 
don’t it? I — I was going to write.” 

“ Send a night letter,” advised the man. That 
will not be very expensive. And it will relieve your 
folks’ minds.” ' 

So Marty did this, sending the message from a 
station where the train lingered for a few minutes. 
The result of the receipt of this dispatch in Polk- 
town was to start a series of quite unforeseen events ; 
but Marty had no idea of this when he wrote : 

I got my eye on Janice. She is all right so 
far.” 

As far as he knew the boy told the truth in that 
phrase. Several times each day Marty managed to 
get a glimpse of his cousin. On almost every such 
occasion she was in the company of the tall, black- 


158 The Mission of Janice Day 

eyed, foreign-looking woman who had been with 
Janice when Marty had run against them in the 
Chicago railway station. 

Those two's havin' it nice an' soft," Marty 
thought as he observed them through the window 
of the dining car when the long train stopped at a 
station and the boy got out to stretch his legs. 

“ Come in and have dinner with me, Martin," said 
the gentleman to whom he had sold his berth reser- 
vation, seeing the boy apparently gazing hungrily 
in at the diners. 

“ Cricky ! I don't believe I'd dare. She'd see 
me," said the boy. 

“ But I thought you considered yourself well dis- 
guised," suggested the other, laughing. 

“ Say! You don't know what sharp eyes Janice 
has got. And you saw yourself that this mustache 
was false." 

“Oh! but at a distance " 

“ Hi tunket ! I’ll go you,” stammered the boy. 
“But let's sit back of Janice." 

This was agreed to and the much-amused gentle- 
man ushered his young friend to a seat in the dining 
car, wherein Marty faced the black-eyed Madam 
while Janice Day's back was toward him. 

Since her mind had gradually become relieved of 
its disturbance occasioned by the mysterious lunch 
which had come into her possession, Janice's only 
serious thoughts were of her father and the task 


Marty Runs Into Trouble 159 

that awaited her at the Border. She allowed her 
thoughts to dwell upon the uncertainties of her ven- 
ture as little as possible. Worrying would not help. 
She knew that to be an undoubted truth. So she 
gave herself up to such amusements of travel as 
there were and to the informative conversation of 
the black-eyed woman with whom she had become 
such “ goot friends.” 

Janice Day was quite a sophisticated young 
woman despite the fact that all her life had been 
spent in two very quiet communities. The girl was 
acquainted through broad reading with both the 
good and evil fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. 
Innocence does not mean ignorance in this day and 
generation, and the modern trend of thought and 
education can be heartily thanked for this change 
from the old standards, if for nothing else. 

Janice was really amused by Madam’s so-often 
expressed fears of being robbed. The girl said 
nothing to her about the change she had made in 
carrying her surplus money; and she continued to 
keep the packet of newspaper pinned to her corsage. 

As they lingeringly ate their dinner on this par- 
ticular evening in the dining car the black-eyed 
woman sudden’ betrayed anxiety: 

My dear! ’ .he cried under her breath. “ I do 
believe there is that boy again I ” 

“What boy, Madam?” Janice asked curiously, 
but without alarm. 


160 The Mission of Janice Day 

‘‘ I have warned you of him before — yes/' hissed 
Madam tragically. ‘‘ He iss the same, I am sure ! 
He tried to rob you in Chicago ! ” 

Oh, Madam ! Janice said, tempted to laugh, 
“ I think you must be mistaken.’^ 

“ Oh, no, I am not, my dear,’^ the woman said 
very earnestly indeed. “ And he iss yet on our 
train. I see him watching you of a frequency — yes ! 
You will not be warned ” , 

“ Where is he? ’’ Janice asked, turning slowly to 
look back, for Madam's black eyes were fixed in that 
direction. 

“ There ! At the table facing this way. With 
the man in the pepper-and-salt suit, my dear." 

Janice flashed a glance at the “ disguised " Marty, 
flushing as she did so. Her gaze lingered on the boy 
only an instant, and without dreaming of his pres- 
ence on the train how should she recognize her 
cousin ? 

“ Why ! he isn’t exactly a boy, is he? ’’ she said to 
the Madam. He wears a pronounced mustache." 

“ Yes ? Perhaps it is not the same, then," sighed 
the woman. But his interest in you, my dear, is 
marked." 

“ Perhaps it is in you he is interested," said Janice, 
smiling. “ You have made a conquest. Madam." 

“Ach! of that so-little man? It would be my 
fate!" cried the majestic creature. ‘'It iss always 
little men that fall in love with me — soh ! " 


161 


Marty Runs Into Trouble 

It was apparent, however, that Madam kept a 
watchful eye on the ‘‘ so-little man ” for she spoke 
of Marty’s surveillance frequently thereafter. Jan- 
ice failed to view this person who so troubled her 
companion, near enough to really see clearly any one 
feature. At a distance the mustache disguised 
Marty Day’s expression of countenance. 

All was not destined to go smoothly with Marty, 
however, during the entire journey to the Border. 
They crossed Texas by the T. & P. route and near 
Sweetwater there was an accident. A train had 
been ditched ahead of that on which Janice and 
Marty rode and, the track being torn up for some 
distance and the right of way blocked, the train 
was halted a long time in the evening at a way 
station. 

It was merely a cluster of houses and stores, a 
shack for a station, a freight house and corral with 
cattle-chutes, and a long platform on which the 
uneasy passengers might stroll to relieve the tedium 
of the wait. 

Of this last privilege Janice and Madam availed 
themselves. Marty, too, feeling for the nonce both 
lonely and homesick, was in the crowd on the long 
platform. He heartily wished he could reveal him- 
self to Janice so as to have somebody “ homey ” to 
talk to. Polktown suddenly seemed a long, long 
way off to the boy. 

“ Hi tunket ! ” he murmured to himself. “ These 


162 The Mission of Janice Day 

stars down here in Texas seem to have got all 
twisted. TheyVe gone an’ switched the Big Dipper 
on me, I do believe.” 

And while he chanced to have his head back look- 
ing aloft he ran right into Janice and her com- 
panion. The Madam screamed and seized the boy 
by the arm. 

‘‘ It iss the same — er — young man ! ” she hissed. 

I tell you he iss always at our heels — yes. Now 
will you belief me ? Feel ! is your money safe ? ” 

Janice clapped her hand to her bosom; the packet 
she had thought so securely pinned there was gone. 

** Oh ! ” she gasped. “ I have lost it ! It is ” 

“It has been stolen! You have been robbed! 
This boy has it ! ” the black-eyed woman declared 
with conviction. “ What have I told you right 
along? But I have the thief. No, sir! you may 
not wr-r-riggle out of my so-strong grasp ! ” 


CHAPTER XVII 


TWO EXPLOSIONS 

Marty had no desire to have his identity revealed 
to his cousin in any such belittling manner as this. 
He had dreamed of Janice getting into some dif- 
ficulty, and his stepping forward to defend and 
protect her. But this situation covered him with 
confusion. 

The large woman with the black eyes and the 
foreign speech possessed muscle, too, as he quickly 
discovered. He could not twist himself out of her 
grasp on the dark platform. 

“ I have the thief,” repeated Madam. “ Soh ! ” 
Oh! are you sure? ” gasped Janice. 

‘‘ You haf lost your money, eh? ” demanded her 
companion. “ Well, then, I haf secured the thief — 
soh!” 

A trainman came along with a lantern. Its light, 
suddenly cast upon the little group, revealed Marty’s 
face more clearly. 

‘‘ What’s the matter here ? ” asked the trainman, 
his curiosity aroused. But Janice moved closer to 
the boy twisting in Madam’s grasp. She peered 
into his face and her own countenance paled. 

163 


164 The Mission of Janice Day 

"‘It — it can't be!"’ she gasped. “You — you — 
Marty Day! " 

She made a dive for the silly-looking mustache. 
Marty squealed energetically: 

“You behave! Stop it, Janice! Ouch! that 
hurts! Don’t you know the blamed thing’s stuck 
on with shoemaker’s wax?” 

“ Marty Day ! ” repeated the girl, “ how did you 
come here ? ” 

“ You know heem — yes? ” gasped the black-eyed 
woman. 

“ Why, he’s my cousin ! He’s followed me all the 
way from home! How ever he did it ” 

Then she stopped suddenly, putting her hand to 
her bosom again. 

“ But I have lost it — the packet,” she cried. 

“ Your money Ach ! ” ejaculated Madam. 

“ What’s that? ” asked the trainman. “ You lost 
something? ” 

“ I bet you have,” exclaimed Marty. “ No girl 
can take care of money right. Where’d you have 
it?” 

Janice motioned to her bosom. The trainman 
lowered his lantern and cast its radiance in a wider 
circle on the platform. 

“ What’s this here ? ” demanded the boy, and 
sprang immediately to secure what his sharp eyes 
had observed lying at the feet of the black-eyed 
woman. 



“Marty Day!” repeated the girl. “How did you come here?” 




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Two Explosions 165 

‘‘ Oh ! that must be it/’ Janice said, trying to seize 
it from her cousin’s hand. 

‘‘Aw, let’s make sure,” growled Marty, at once 
taking the lead in affairs. “ Nice way to carry 
money, I must say — wrapped in a handkerchief! 
Hi tunket ! what d’you know about this? ” 

He had unfolded the handkerchief and revealed — 
newspaper. That was all. The black-eyed woman 
stepped back with a sudden intake of breath. She 
glared at Janice. 

“ Huh! Somebody flimflammed you? ” demanded 
Marty, staring, too, at his cousin. 

“ No-o,” the girl admitted faintly. “ I — I did it 
myself.” 

“ You did what? ” asked the interested trainman. 

“ I wrapped that paper up and hid it in my blouse. 
My money is safe.” 

“ It is ! ” cried Marty. “ Sure ? Where you got 
it hid?” 

“Never mind; it’s safe,” said Janice tartly. 

The trainman chuckled as he went his way. 

“ Marty ! ” began the girl when Madam broke in : 

“ You are well engaged, I see,” she said sharply. 
“ I will bid you goot evening,” and she moved 
majestically toward the car. 

“ Who is she ? ” demanded Marty, following 
Madam with suspicious eye. 

“ I don’t know,” confessed his cousin. 

“ Say ! are you sure you got your money safe ? ” 


166 The Mission of Janice Day 

Yes.” 

Where ? ” he questioned insistently. 

“ It’s none of your business, Marty Day,” snapped 
Janice, “ but if you mtist know, it’s pinned inside 
my stocking — so now ! ” 

Sure,” chuckled Marty. ‘‘ I might have 
guessed. Most popular national bank there is. Say ! 
we’d better get aboard. Train’s goin’ to start 
again.” 

‘'You come with me, Marty; I want to know 
what this means,” Janice said, seizing his hand as 
they hurried to board the train. “ How did you 
get down here? Who told you you might come? 
Mercy! I can’t understand it at all. And that 
silly mustache ” 

“ Cricky 1 I wish I could get the blame thing 
off,” said the boy, touching his lip tenderly. “You 
mighty near tore my face apart when you grabbed 
at it.” 

“ It’s the most ridiculous thing. Oh ! I wonder 
where Madam went to ? ” For the black-eyed 
woman was not in her usual seat. Indeed, her hand- 
baggage was no longer there, nor could Janice see 
her anywhere in the car. “ I believe she is of- 
fended,” said the girl. 

“ Huh ? What about ? ” Marty queried. 

“ Why, because of that foolish trick of mine — 
the packet of newspapers. She thought I had my 
money pinned to my underwaist all the time.” 


167 


Two Explosions 

The boy's eyes twinkled shrewdly. Huh ! 
maybe," he said. ‘‘ But you don’t know a thing 
about her. ’Tisn’t very smart to make acquaint- 
ances on the cars, I calculate." 

** Goodness I hear the boy ! " gasped Janice. “ Sit 

down here. I want to know all about it Why, 

Marty ! " 

“ Huh ? What’s sprung a leak now ? ’’ 

“ It must have been you who gave me that 
lunch!" 

“ Oh I on the train coming down from the Land- 
ing? Sure," Marty answered. ** I knew you’d 
never think of getting anything decent to eat your- 
self." 

"'You blessed angel boy!" 

" Oh ! I’m a Sarah Finn, I am — as Walky Dexter 
calls ’em." 

“Calls whatf^’ 

“ Angels," said the boy, grinning. “ There’s one 
breed called something that sounds like Sarah Finn." 

“ Seraphim ! " 

“That’s the ticket. Well?" for his cousin sud- 
denly seized his arm and shook him. 

“ Tell me all about it — at once! ’’ 

“ Why — er — that lunch I got off’n the cook 
aboard the Constance Colfax/' 

“ Marty ! don’t tease. I don’t care about the 
lunch now — it was eaten so long ago." 

“ Hi tunket ! and you haven’t eat nothing like it 


168 The Mission of Janice Day 

since/’ declared the boy warmly. You been fair 
wallowin’ in luxury.” 

Marty!” 

‘‘ Yes, you have,” he pursued. ** I don’t see how 
you come to have any money left at all — eatin’ your 
three squares a day in the dining car. Not me 1 I 
get lunches at the stop-over places, I do.” 

“ But I saw you in the dining car,” Janice said, 
with sudden conviction. 

‘‘Yep. Once. And you can bet that I didn’t 
pay for my supper that time. I was treated.” 

“ But you’re not telling me a thing I want to 
know,” cried the girl. “ Did Uncle Jason send you? 
Never! ” 

“ I’ll break it to you easy,” grinned Marty. “ I 
did just what you did.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ I ran away ; that’s what I did.” 

“ Didn’t you leave word for your father and 
mother? I did.” 

“ I telegraphed,” said Marty proudly, taking full 
credit for that act. “ Told ’em you were all right 
and that I had my eye on you.” 

“Well! Of all things!” 

“Yep. ’Tis kinder strange, isn’t it?” said 
Marty, blowing a sigh. “ Don’t scarcely seem real 
to me.” 

“But your mother — and Uncle Jason! They 
will be worried to death about you, Marty.” 


Two Explosions 169 

Huh ! How about you ? demanded her cousin. 

“ But you are only a boy.’' 

“ And you’re only a girl,” he retorted. 

“ Marty, I had to come,” she told him gravely. 

“Of course you did. I know it. Frank and 
Nelse, and the rest of ’em, couldn’t see it; but I 
saw it. I was wise to you right away, so I 
watched.” 

He went on to relate his experiences in getting 
away from Polktown, chuckling over his own wit. 

“ But your mother and father will never forgive 
me,” she sighed. 

“ What they got to forgive you for ? ” demanded 
Marty. 

“If it hadn’t been for me you never would have 
run away. And I don’t really see what good it has 
done, your having done so, anyway. You can’t help 
me find daddy.” 

“Why not?” snapped the boy. “What d’you 
think I came ’way off here for? Just to sit around 
and suck my thumb? Huh! I guess I can do as 
much toward finding Uncle Brocky as ever you will, 
Janice Day.” 

“ I am afraid,” the girl sighed, “ that you don’t 
realize what a task there is before me.” 

“ Before us'' growled Marty. 

Janice smiled faintly without otherwise acknowl- 
edging the correction. 

“ Say ! what have you done toward learning how 


170 The Mission of Janice Day 

to get across that river and up there to San Cristo- 
val ? ’’ the boy suddenly asked. 

“ Why — that is too far ahead. I shall have to be 
guided by circumstances.’’ 

Ye-as ! That’s what the feller said when they 
were goin’ to hang him. But I’ve been lookin’ ahead 
and I’ve been askin’ questions.” 

‘‘Of whom, Marty?” his cousin cried. 

“ Folks. I got acquainted with a good many back 
there in the smoker.” 

“ I thought you intimated it was dangerous to 
make such acquaintances ? ” suggested Janice. 

“ ’Tis — for girls,” announced her cousin stoutly. 

“ And why not for boys. I’d like to know ? ” 

“ ’Cause nothin’ can hurt boys. They’re tough,” 
grinned Marty. “ Now, this big woman you been 
hobnobbing with ” 

“ Oh ! I wonder what can have become of 
Madam ? ” 

“ Maybe she had reason for cutting her tow- 
rope,” said the slangy boy, “ just as soon’s she saw 
you had somebody to take care of you. Oh, yes! 
Did you notice just where I picked up that package 
of newspapers that you lost ? ” 

“Oh, Marty!” 

“ Almost under the feet of Miz’ Madam, as you 
call her,” went on the boy. “ She was right. You 
were robbed. Somebody took that packet out of 
your blouse all right, all right I ” 


171 


Two Explosions 

Why, Marty ! how very terribly you talk ! ’’ 

'' Ye-as. Maybe I do. But she certainly was 
kind o’ crusty when she left us there on the plat- 
form.” 

Oh ! I wouldn’t have offended her,” grieved 
Janice. “ I don’t believe she was a bad woman at 
all, Marty Day.” 

I don’t know anything about her,” declared 
'Marty. “ But you’d better be mighty careful with 
folks you meet. Now, the men I’ve been talkin’ 
with are regular fellers, they are. And they’ve 
told me a lot about what we’ll haf to do when we 
get to that Rio Grande River.” 

“ Marty, dear ! It may be dangerous. I can’t let 
you run into peril for me.” 

No. But I will for Uncle Brocky — if I have to. 
And you won’t stop me,” he declared. ‘‘ ’Sides, it 
isn’t goin’ to be so dangerous as you think if we go 
about it right.” 

“ How do you know ? ” 

‘‘Why, up North there we thought that the 
Border was like a barbed-wire fence that you had to 
climb through ev’ry time you went from the United 
States into Mexico an’ back again, and it was lucky 
if you didn’t ketch your pants on the barbed wire an’ 
get ’em tore, too!” and the boy was grinning 
broadly again. 

“ But ’tisn’t nothing like that. You’d think from 
what you read in the newspapers that the towns on 


172 The Mission of Janice Day 

the northern side of the Border was spang full of 
Americans — white folks that talk English, you know 
— while every town over the Border and in shootin’ 
distance of it, as you might say, was all populated 
with nothin’ but greasers.” 

“ Well? ” Janice asked faintly. 

“ Why, ’tisn’t nothing like that. Lots of Texas 
towns along the Border ain’t got anybody in ’em but 
Mexican folks, and Mexican-Spanish is the official 
language. Yes, sir!'' said Marty, proud of his 
acquired acknowledge. 

“ The officers of the town are Mexs like every- 
body else. They’re peaceable enough and law-abid- 
ing enough and they go back and forth over the river 
and into Mexico just as they please. 

“ Now, what we want to do is to pick out one 
of these little squash-towns along the bank of the 
Rio Grande, drive over to it in an automobile from 
the railroad, and make a dicker with some greaser 
to ferry us across the river to some town on the 
other side.” 

'‘And then what, Marty?” asked Janice, made 
all but breathless by the manner in which her cousin 
seemed to have grasped the situation. 

" Why, then we’ll get another automobile, or a 
carriage, or something, and steer a course for this 
San Cristoval place. It’s on a branch railroad, but 
the railroad ain’t running, so they tell me. We can’t 
hoof it there, for it’s too far from the Border ; but 


Two Explosions 173 

there must be roads of some kind and we’ll find 

something to ride in — or ” 

“Why, Marty!” gasped Janice, stopping him. 
“ Your being here — on this very train with me — 
certainly was an explosion. But this is a greater 
one. Don’t say any more. I can’t stand any more 
excitement to-night,” and she was more than a little 
in earnest although she smiled. 

“ Here comes the porter to make up the berths. 
You’ll have to go. And we’ll talk it over in the 
morning, early. And do get rid of that mustache, 
for we’ll be at Fort Hancock to-morrow and that is 
where I have about decided to leave the train.” 

“ Sure,” said the very confident Marty. “ That’s 
just the place I’d picked out myself to drop off at. 

All right, Janice. See you in the morning. Er ” 

“ Well, what? ” asked his cousin. 

“ Hadn’t you better let me take that money of 
yours for safe keeping?” 

“ No, Marty,” she said demurely. “ We won’t 
put all our eggs in one basket. You know, even you 
might be robbed. Good-night, dear boy 1 ” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


SOMETHING VERY EXCITING 

Janice did not see the black-eyed woman who had 
been so much in her company across the continent 
again that night ; and in the morning she found that 
the berth under her own had remained empty. Upon 
asking the porter she learned that Madam had left 
the train at Sweetwater. 

‘^And never said good-bye to me!’’ Janice 
thought with some compunctions of conscience. Is 
it possible that she was offended because of those 
pieces of newspaper I carried in my bosom ? It did 
look as though I doubted her honesty.” 

For the girl could not believe, as Marty had sug- 
gested, that the odd, foreign-talking woman had had 
designs upon her money. 

‘‘ You never can tell about those foreigners,” 
Marty said gruffly at breakfast time. He had 
managed to remove the mustache and his lip was 
sore. 

Marty had all the narrow-minded prejudices 
against foreigners of the inexperienced. 

‘‘ You’re going to have a fine time down here 
among these Mexicans,” his cousin told him. 

174 


Something Very Exciting 175 

“ Watch ’em. That’s my motto,” cried Marty. 
“ And, say ! ain’t some o’ the greasers funny-lookin’ 
creatures ? ” 

At every little, hot station they passed (for there 
was a startling difference in the temperature com- 
pared with the frosty nights and mornings they 
had left behind in Vermont) there were several of 
the broad-brimmed, high-crowned hats typically 
Mejico, as well as the shawl-draped figures of hat- 
less women, and dozens of dirty, little-clothed 
children. 

Why ! it looks like a foreign country already,” 
Janice sighed. 

But Marty was only eager. His eyes fairly 
snapped and he almost forgot to eat the very nice 
breakfast that Janice had ordered, he was so 
deeply interested in all that was outside the car 
windows. 

Yet the outlook for the most part was rather 
dreary between stations, while the stations them- 
selves were as ugly as a mud fence ” to quote 
Marty. 

But everything is new,” said the boy. ‘‘ I ain’t 
missin’ anything.” 

The conductor vised their tickets for a stop-over 
at Fort Hancock and agreed to ‘‘ pull her down ” for 
that station although it was not a stopping point 
for through trains. 

‘‘ You’ll have to go on up to El Paso on a local,” 


176 The Mission of Janice Day 

he drawled ; and you’ll have to mix up with 
greasers an’ such.” 

“ How do you know we shall want to go on to 
El Paso at all?” asked Janice, smiling. 

“ Why, ma’am, nobody ever stays in these river 
towns any longer’n they kin he’p. And outside of 
the soldiers stationed hereabout there’s only seventy- 
five folks or so, in the place — only two of them 
white.” 

“ Oh ! ” Janice involuntarily gasped. 

'' or Jose Pez keeps the store and hotel. He’s 
not such a robber as some; he’s too lazy — ^and too 
proud, I reckon. You got folks at the post?” 

We expect to meet Lieutenant Cowan,” Janice 
said. 

The cousins were the only passengers to leave the 
train, and they were quite unexpected. The natives, 
who en masse always met the trains scheduled to 
stop at the station, refused to believe that the 

limited ” had stopped. They preferred to believe 
that the appearance of the two young strangers was 
an hallucination; better such a mystery in their 
placid lives than the unexpected reality. 

Several little children came to stare at Janice and 
Marty standing on the platform before the corru- 
gated iron station, in which there was not even an 
agent. One of these infants was dressed. He wore 
a torn hat evidently having belonged originally to 
someone with a much larger head than he pos- 


Something Very Exciting 177 

sessed. He had to lift up its brim with both hands 
to peer at the strangers. 

“ They are so dirty/’ murmured Janice. 

“ Gee ! ” sighed Marty, his freckled face brighten- 
ing. ‘‘ Ain’t it immense? ” 

His cousin stared at him in an amazement that 
gradually changed to something like admiration. 
She suddenly realized that, if she could have chosen 
her escort, nobody would have so well suited as 
Marty Day under these distressing circumstances. 
He might not be very wise, but he was immensely 
enthusiastic. 

He was staring now beyond the line of haphazard 
shacks and adobe buildings that bordered the one 
street, into the jungle of mesquite and cactus grow- 
ing in the dry waste of sand that almost surrounded 
the settlement — and he could smile! 

While on the train they had passed many irrigated 
grapefruit orchards bordered by lordly date palms; 
but the tangle of mesquite and cactus was always 
just over the ocatilla fences. They had likewise 
seen a sprawling, low-roofed ranchhouse here and 
there from the train windows, but there was nothing 
like that comfort suggested here. 

Most of the buildings in sight were one-room 
dwellings of adobe, with an open shed at the back 
built of four corner posts supporting a thatch roof, 
on which peppers were still sunning, late as was the 
season. Here and there between these forlorn huts 


178 


The Mission of Janice Day 

grew an oleander or an umbrella chinaberry; and 
there were vines on some of the walls, masking their 
ugliness. But for the most part the village was a 
dreary and distressing looking collection of habita- 
tions. 

Janice and Marty moved along the street of the 
town. There was no walk, and the roadway was 
deep in dust. Marty carried Janice’s bag and strode 
along as though “ monarch of all he surveyed.” To 
tell the truth, the girl was closer to tears than she 
had been since leaving Polktown. 

Their objective point was a large frame building, 
roofed with corrugated iron and with a veranda in 
front, at the end of the street. The sides of this 
more important looking building were trellised with 
vines. There was, too, the promise of cleanliness 
and coolness about the place. Across the front they 
read the sign: 

JOSE PEZ, MERCHAJSFDISE 

A solemn old man, burned almost black by the 
sun and with the skin of his face as wrinkled as an 
alligator’s hide, rose from a comfortable chair on the 
porch to greet them. He wore a long white goatee 
and military mustache. He had an air of immense 
dignity. 

''Buenos dias, senorita! Buenos dias, senor!'* 
and he bowed politely. 


Something Very Exciting 179 

Are — are you Mr. Pez? ” asked Janice timidly. 

The old man bowed low again. Don Jose 
Almoreda Tomas Sauceda Pez — at your service, 
senorita.’' 

“We wish to find Lieutenant Cowan. He is sta- 
tioned here.” 

“No longer, senorita,” said the old fellow, shak- 
ing his head in vigorous denial. He is gone with 
his troop a month now. I do not know his present 
station. At the telegraph office the operator may be 
able to tell you. To my sorrow I cannot. Lieu- 
tenant Cowan is my friend.” 

“And my father’s friend. My father is Mr. 
Broxton Day,” Janice hastened to tell him. 

“ Senor Broxton Day ? ” repeated the don. “ I 
am sorrowful, senorita. I do not know heem. 
But we have a — how do you call it in Eenglish? — 
Ah! a mutual friend in Lieutenant Cowan. Come 
in. My poor house and all that I possess is at your 
service.” 

“ You — do you conduct a hotel here, Senor 
Pez?” suggested Janice. 

“Surely! Surely!” declared the old man with 
another sweeping gesture. 

“ We must get rooms here then, Marty,” she said 
to her cousin ; “ and perhaps the gentleman can tell 
us how we may get across the river and to San 
Cristoval.” 

“ You let me do the talking,” Marty said rather 


180 The Mission of Janice Day 

gruffly. ‘‘ ril make the bargain. Fve found out 
that a dollar Mex ain’t worth but fifty cents.” 

He said this in a low voice; but the don was al- 
ready summoning somebody whom he called 
‘‘ Rosita ” from the interior of the house. The 
house was divided in the middle, one half of the 
lower floor being given up to the exigencies of 
trade. On the other side of the hall that ran through 
to the rear were the hotel rooms. 

Rosita appeared. She was a woman shaped like 
a pyramid. Even her head, on which the black 
coarse hair was bobbed high, finished in a peak — 
the unmistakable mark of the ancient Aztec blood 
in her veins. Her shoulders sloped away from her 
three chins and it seemed as though the greatest 
circumference of her body must be at her ankles, 
for her skirt flared. Rosita had guessed at her 
waist-line and had tied a string there, for her dress 
was a one-piece garment and she had no actual 
knowledge of where her waistband should be placed. 

But in spite of her strange shape and dark com- 
plexion, Rosita was still very pretty of countenance 
and had wonderfully white teeth and great, violet 
eyes. She was still in her early thirties. A toddling 
little one clung to her skirt. 

Take the ninito hence, Rosita, and show the 
senorita to the best room above. Her caballero 

? ” Sefior Fez looked at Marty doubtfully and 

the boy struck in: 


Something Very Exciting 181 

That’s all right, old feller. It don’t matter 
where I camp. We’ll talk about that pretty soon. 
You go ahead and see the room, Janice, and wash 
up. Maybe they can give you dinner.” 

** Surely ! Surely ! ” said the don, shooing the 
ninito out of the way as though it were a chicken. 

Rosita mounted to the upper floor in the lead. 
Janice followed with a queer feeling of emptiness 
at her heart — the first symptom of homesickness. 

But the mountainous Rosita seemed as kindly in- 
tentioned as the old don. She opened the door with 
a flourish on a broad, almost bare room, with an 
iron bed, a washstand and bureau of maple, a rock- 
ing chair, and with curtains at the two windows. 

On the floor was a straw matting and over its 
dry surface Janice heard a certain rustling — a con- 
tinual rhythmic movement. As she stared about the 
floor, hesitating to enter, Rosita said: 

‘‘It is be-a-u-tiful room — ^yes, huh?” 

“ But — but what is that noise ? ” asked the girl 
from the North, her mind filled with thoughts of 
tarantulas and centipedes. 

“Huh? Nottin’. That? Jes’ fleas — sand fleas. 
They hop, hop, hop. No mind them. You hongree 
— yes, huh ? I go get you nice dinner — ^yes, huh ? ” 

She departed, quite filling the stairway as she 
descended to the lower floor. 

“ My goodness ! ” thought Janice, with a sudden 
hysterical desire to laugh. “ I should hate to have 


182 The Mission of Janice Day 

the house catch fire and wait my turn to go down- 
stairs after Rosita ! ” 

It took no conflagration to hasten her preparations 
for descent on this occasion. She met Marty at the 
foot of the staircase. The boy’s face was actually 
pallid, and against this background his freckles 
seemed twice their usual size. 

‘‘What is it? What has happened?” demanded 
Janice, seizing his arm. 

Marty drew her farther from the foot of the stair- 
case to where she could see through a narrow door- 
way into the store. 

“ See there ! ” the boy hissed. 

“ See what? Oh, Marty! you frighten me.” 

“ ’Tain’t nothin’ to be frightened of,” he assured 
her. “ See that feller with the red vest ? ” 

“ I see the red waistcoat — yes,” admitted Janice, 
peering into the gloomy store. 

“ Hi tunket I D’you know who’s inside that red 
vest ? ” sputtered Marty. 

“ No-o.” 

“ Tom Hotchkiss ! ” said her cousin. “ What 
d’you know about that ? ” 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE CROSSING 

It is not the magnitude of an incident that most 
shocks the human mind. A happening stuns us in 
ratio to its unexpectedness. 

Now, if there was anything in the whole range 
of possibilities more unexpected than the appearance 
of Tom Hotchkiss, the absconding Polktown store- 
keeper, down in this unlovely Border town, Janice 
Day could not imagine what that more unexpected 
occurrence could be. 

It took fully a minute for Marty’s announcement 
to really percolate to his cousin’s understanding. 
She stared dumbly at the red vest, which was about 
all she could see of the man in Don Jose Almoreda 
Tomas Sauceda Pez’s store, and then turned to 
Marty, saying : 

‘‘Yes?” 

“ Cricky ! ” sputtered the boy. “ You gone dumb, 
Janice? Don’t you understand?” 

“ I — I — no, Marty. I do not believe I do under- 
stand. Is — is it surely that Hotchkiss man?” 

“ Surest thing you know ! ” declared the boy. 

183 


184 The Mission of Janice Day 

‘‘What shall we do?^’ and for once Janice felt 
herself to be quite helpless. 

That Marty’s wits were bright and shining was 
proved by his immediate reply: 

“ You leave it to me. I got a scheme. I’m going 
to skip over to the telegraph office. We want to 
find that Lieutenant Cowan if we can, anyway. 
And I’m going to send what they call a night letter 
to dad. A night letter to a Day, see ? ” and he 
giggled. 

“ You get back upstairs into your room and don’t 
let Hotchkiss see you. Get ’em to give you your 
dinner up there. ’Twon’t be nothin’ but beans, any- 
way, I have an idea. That’s what they live on down 
here, they tell me, and cornin’ from Vermont as I 
do, beans ain’t a luxury to me. I won’t mind miss- 
ing a mess of ’em for once.” 

“ But, Marty ” 

“ I got a scheme, I tell you,” the boy whispered. 
“ Can’t stop to tell you what it is. I got to hike.” 

He dashed out of the door, the only rapidly mov- 
ing figure in all that town, for even the dogs in the 
street seemed too lazy to move. 

Janice, feeling that she was allowing her cousin 
to take the lead in a most disgraceful way, yet really 
not knoA^ing what better to do, mounted the stairs 
again and went into the room where the sand fleas 
were “ fox-trotting,” as she afterwards told Marty, 
over the straw matting. 


185 


The Crossing 

The appearance of Tom Hotchkiss in this place 
was such a shock to the girl that it was some time 
before she could think connectedly about it. Her 
cousin had made the discovery and had had time to 
collect his wits before Janice had descended the 
stairs. After a time the girl realized what should be 
done, and she wondered if Marty would really be 
wise enough to do it. 

Her uncle should be informed at once of the 
presence of Tom Hotchkiss here on the Border. In 
addition the local authorities should be communi- 
cated with and a complaint lodged against the run- 
away storekeeper and his arrest demanded. 

She was not quite sure what would be the correct 
course to pursue ; but when the smiling and ponder- 
ous Rosita with the ninito still tagging at her skirt 
brought up her dinner, she asked the woman how 
one went about having a criminal arrested in that 
town. 

“You want the sheriff — yes, huh?” said Rosita. 

“ I suppose so.” 

“ The sheriff, heem my hoosban’,” said Rosita 
proudly. “ Sehor Tomas Morales. But he off now 
to ar-r-est one weeked man — very weeked. He 
stole Uncle Tio’s pants. Poor Uncle Tio! My 
hoosban’ go far after this weeked man — two days’ 
horse journey.” 

“And just because the man stole a pair of 
pants ? ” 


186 The Mission of Janice Day 

Yes, huh! You see,” explained Rosita, ‘‘they 
were all the pants poor Uncle Tio own, and he now 
have to wear serape only. Only poor Indians appear 
without pants — yes, huh ! ” 

Janice gazed at the ninito and tried to imagine 
the dignity attached in the peon’s mind to a pair of 
trousers. However, the meal was before her and 
although the main dish was beans, as Marty had 
foretold, they were savory and the girl found them 
good. 

These frijoles were soft and well seasoned and 
the cakes, tortillas, were tender, too. The coffee 
was delicious and there was a sweet cake which 
Janice thought was made of ground bean-flour, but 
was not sure. 

She began to worry about Marty’s absence. After 
Rosita had descended the stairs everything was 
silent about the store and hotel. It was the hour of 
siesta — though why one hour should be considered 
more somnolent than another in this place the girl 
from Vermont could not imagine. 

Through the open, unscreened window she could 
see down the street. At its far end, across the rail- 
road, was a pole from which a faded American flag 
drooped. This she knew indicated the post telegraph 
office. The army post was a little more than a mile 
away. 

Where could Marty be all this time ? It was two 
hours since he had darted out of the hotel to send 


The Crossing 187 

the night letter to Uncle Jason. Surely he was not 
still at that telegraph office ? 

Here and there along the dusty, sunny street 
figures in broad hats, striped cotton suits, with col- 
ored sashes, many of them barefoot or shod only in 
home-made sandals, leaned against the adobe walls, 
or lay on their backs in the shade. Groups of shawl- 
headed, gossipy women with innumerable babies 
playing about them likewise spotted the gray street 
with color. 

Those males who were awake were smoking the 
everlasting cigarette or rolling a fresh one. Not 
a few of the women were smoking, too. Just one 
of these male figures, lolling against the wall directly 
opposite her window, did not expel the incense of 
nicotine through his nostrils. This lad did not 
smoke. 

Janice, for some reason, looked at him more at- 
tentively. His high-crowned, gayly banded hat was 
quite like the headgear of the others ; so, too;' was the 
glaringly striped suit he wore of “ awning cloth ’’ 
such as the girls were having sport skirts made of 
in the North — too loud for an awning, but just 
right for a skirt ! ” 

He wore a flowing necktie and shoes and socks 
— an extravagance that few of the Mexicans in 
sight displayed. Or was he a Mexican? He was 
tanned, but not to the saddle color of the native. 

Yes! he waved his hand to her. Now that he 


#1 


188 The Mission of Janice Day 

knew he had caught her eye he raised his hatbrim 
and revealed — Martyrs face, all a-grin, beneath it ! 

“Goodness! what is that boy doing? He has 
attempted to disguise himself again,’' murmured 
Janice Day. 

Then she suddenly apprehended her cousin’s 
reason for thus assuming the dress and air of the 
town. At least she thought she did. He was watch- 
ing the store to see that Tom Hotchkiss did not get 
away. He did not wish to be recognized by the 
dishonest Polktown storekeeper. And knowing, as 
she did, that the only local officer of the law, Senor 
Tomas Morales, was absent she realized that she and 
Marty must be careful if they wished to have Hotch- 
kiss finally seized. 

Here the absconder was, right near the Mexican 
Border. Once over the Rio Grande, in the present 
unsettled state of Mexican affairs Hotchkiss could 
not be arrested and turned over to the American 
authorities. 

Instead of entering Canada as Polktown people 
thought probable, and from which he could be more 
or less easily extradited if found, Tom Hotchkiss 
had traveled across the continent to be near battle- 
troubled Mexico where many transgressors against 
laws of the United States have taken refuge. 

Janice Day’s heart throbbed with eager thoughts. 
What a really great thing it would be if she and 
Marty could succeed in having this man, whose dis- 


f 


The Crossing 189 

honest acts threatened Uncle Jason’s ruin, appre- 
hended by the law before he could get across the 
Border ! 

“ Oh! if daddy’s friend, Lieutenant Cowan, were 
only here,” thought the girl, “ we might accom- 
plish it without awaiting the return of Rosita’s 
trousers-chasing ‘ hoosban’.’ I wonder who is in 
command of the soldiers out there at the post? 
Would I dare go to see?” 

This plan savored of delaying her determination 
to get into Mexico and find her wounded father. 
But to cause the arrest of Tom Hotchkiss might 
mean Uncle Jason’s financial salvation. Of course, 
if the runaway storekeeper had not lost the money 
he had stolen, his apprehension would insure the 
recovery of the large sum for which Mr. Jason Day 
had made himself liable. 

Janice waved her hand in return to Marty and 
nodded understanding^ ; but she wished to com- 
municate with him at close quarters. She desired to 
know how much he had learned— if he, too, knew 
that the local sheriff was out of town. She how- 
ever saw the danger of going down boldly to hold 
converse with her cousin. Tom Hotchkiss knew 
her, of course, as he did Marty, though not very 
well. Just then Janice hoped the man had forgotten 
them both. 

When Rosita, smiling but puffing after the stair- 
climb like the exhaust of a “ mountain climber ” 


190 The Mission of Janice Day 

locomotive, appeared for her tray Janice took the 
willing and kindly Mexican woman into her confi- 
dence, to an end she had in view. 

It was true that Janice’s traveling bag held a very 
small wardrobe for such a long journey as she had 
made. She had nothing fit to wear now that she had 
reached the Border. Could ready-made garments 
that would fit her be bought in Don Jose’s store? 

But, by goodness! — yes, huh? There were gar- 
ments for the young senorita — yes, of a delectable 
assortment. Ah! if Rosita herself could but wear 
them. But, she was past all that — yes, huh? Would 
the senorita believe it ? She had lost her figure ! 

Janice turned quickly to point from the window 
so that the unfortunate Rosita should not see her 
expression. It was a task to keep from bursting 
into laughter in the simple woman’s face. 

‘‘Clothes like that girl over there is wearing?” 
Janice asked. 

“ Ah, senorita ! not like those old clothes of 
Manuel Dario’s daughter. But real tailaire-made 
gowns from the East.” 

“ But I wish to dress like one of you Mexican 
girls,” Janice said with subtile flattery. “ My 
cousin and I have to go over into your country 
and I shall be less conspicuous if I dress like — like 
other girls there, shall I not ? ” 

“ Oh ! but not like the common girl ! ” begged 
Rosita. “ One must dress richly, senorita.” 


191 


The Crossing 

‘‘ No,” Janice said. “ I am on a serious mission, 
Rosita; perhaps a dangerous mission. My father 
has been wounded in a fight up beyond San Cristo- 
val, and I must go after him and bring him over 
here.” 

Rosita made a clucking noise in her throat signifi- 
cant of her sympathy, making likewise the sign of 
the cross. May his recovery be sure and speedy, 
sehorita,” she said. ‘‘Yes, huh?” 

But now for the new clothes. Once having got it 
fixed in her slow brain that Janice was not in the 
market for the shop-made garments copied after the 
latest fashions, Rosita was very helpful. She made 
no objection to waddling downstairs and panting 
up again with her arms full of the ordinary cheap 
finery of the Mexican women. The colors were 
gay and the goods coarse; but Janice was not crit- 
ical. She merely hoped to escape any special at- 
tention while passing through these Border towns. 
Likewise she hoped to disguise herself ' from the 
eyes of Mr. Tom Hotchkiss. 

“If the sehorita desires to travel far within Chi- 
huahua, it would be better to advise with my father, 
Don Jose,” Rosita said, revealing a relationship 
Janice had not before suspected. “ Although he has 
been exiled now for many years, and is — what you 
say? — naturalized — yes, huh. Yet, sehorita, he has 
many friends among all factions. Some of the 
lesser chiefs are personally known to him, those both 


192 The Mission of Janice Day 

of the bandits and the army of deliverance. Speak 
to him, senorita.” 

“ I shall, Rosita,*' said Janice. “ And as soon as 
your husband, the Sehor Sheriff Morales, comes I 
wish to speak with him too.’’ 

Si, si, senorita. I hope that will be soon,” 
Rosita said, blowing a sigh. And I hope he brings 
back Uncle Tio’s pants.” 

Janice ventured downstairs dressed in her fresh 
garments. They were not unbecoming, and she 
tossed her head and walked with her hand on her 
hip as she had seen several of the Mexican girls do 
who had passed Marty leaning against the wall. 
Marty was not thinking much of girls, however, 
and he had given the senoritas very little notice for 
their trouble. 

But he saw Janice when she came down the 
veranda steps and recognized her, grinning broadly 
at her. 

“ Hi tunket ! you got a head on you, Janice, you 
have ! ” he said admiringly. I wasn’t sure you’d 
see what I was up to.” 

“ I return the compliment,” said his cousin, smil- 
ing on him. You thought of it first.” 

“ Well, I was afraid Tom Hotchkiss might see 
and spot me.” 

‘‘ He is still in the store. I heard and recognized 
his voice as I came down. I think he is bargaining 
for something with Sefior Jose Almoreda Tomas 


193 


The Crossing 

Sauceda Pez. Perhaps Hotchkiss is going to adopt 
Mexican garments/' she went on after she and 
Marty had giggled over their host's name. 

“ Good-bye to that red vest, then," grunted 
Marty. “ Now, we've just got to catch that feller 
and shut him up somewhere till dad can send for 
him. There ain't any police here. I asked the feller 
I swapped my clothes with." 

“ Oh, Marty ! did you get rid of all your good 
clothes — your Sunday suit ? " 

“ Why," said Marty slowly, “ I got something to 
boot. I didn't make such a bad bargain. Anyway, 
the feller I swapped with said he needed the pants 
awful bad." 

“ What for ? " gasped Janice. 

Why, for somebody he called Uncle Tio. Uncle 
Tio's lost his — had 'em stole. I judge nobody down 
here ever owns more than one pair of pants at a 
time, and they would have hung this feller that stole 
Uncle Tio's if they'd caught him. 'Tisn't horse 
thieves they lynch down here in the Southwest ; it's 
pants thieves ! " and Marty chuckled. 

“Oh, Marty!" giggled Janice. “The whole 
police force has gone chasing the robber who got 
Uncle Tio's trousers." 

“Thought there weren't any police?" gasped 
Marty. 

Janice told him about Rosita's husband. 

“A sheriff, eh?" said Marty. “We'll get him 


194 The Mission of Janice Day 

to grab and hold on to Tom Hotchkiss — sure. 
Wonder if there’s a calaboose here?” 

There must be some way of holding the man. 
Did you communicate with Lieutenant Cowan, 
Marty? ” 

The boy wagged his head regretfully. “ Nobody 
knows where he is. They tell me at the telegraph 
office that the army is on a war basis and informa- 
tion about the movements of troops is not locally 
given out. We got to go on our own taps, I guess, 
Janice.” 

“ But, Marty, I don’t know what to do. About 
this Tom Hotchkiss, I mean.” 

“ I know. You’re mighty anxious to make the 
crossing and go up to Uncle Brocky’s mine. So 
am I. But we got to grab Tom Hotchkiss first.” 

“ If we can.” 

“ I told dad we would,” Marty said confidently. 

Oh ! we’ll fix it. But I wish there was a constable 
here right now. I don’t know about these sheriffs. 
Still, it’s against the law down here to carry a gun, 
I s’pose, same as it is up North, unless you’re a 
soldier or a law officer. That’s why that feller that 
swapped clothes with me said there were no cops 
to bother about it.” 

“Why! what do you mean, Marty?” his cousin 
cried. 

The boy drew from its hiding place in his sash 
a shiny “ snub-nose ” service revolver — a much more 


The Crossing 195 

deadly weapon than the army automatic, for it will 
shoot farther and straighten 

“ This is what I got to boot in the trade,'’ said the 
boy with immense pride. 

Marty ! " almost shrieked Janice. ‘‘ You'll shoot 
yourself ! '' 

‘‘ I won't till it's loaded," returned her cousin 
coolly. “ I got the cartridges, all right all right ; 
but I haven’t put any of 'em into the cylinder. Oh, 
I know about guns, Janice." 

Goodness me ! " groaned the girl. “ What are 
we coming to? " 

We’ve come'’ announced Marty grimly. ‘‘ And 
it ain’t any Sunday-school picnic at that. This isn’t 
Polktown, Janice. We're at the Border. 'Tisn’t no 
place for scare-cats, either.” 

“ I’m no " scare-cat,' as you call them, I should 
hope," said the girl indignantly. 

Nevertheless she was very much disturbed by 
this incident. It seemed so peaceful here ; they had 
seen scarcely a soldier in crossing Texas — none at 
all since leaving the train. The fact that they were 
so near the border-line of war-ridden Mexico was 
now suddenly impressed upon her mind. 

“ Suppose Marty should be shot ? " she thought. 

Oh ! what would Uncle Jason and Aunt 'Mira do 
to me? ” 

“ Say ! " the boy suddenly interrupted the train 
of these thoughts and with cheerfulness. ‘‘Say! 


196 The Mission of Janice Day 

it’s up to us to do something. Let’s get that old 
don out of the store and put it to him — straight. 
They tell me he’s the whole cheese here.” 

“ He seems kindly disposed,” Janice agreed. 

‘‘ He was a high muck-a-muck in Chihuahua once 
upon a time. But he favored the poor people — 
peons, they call ’em — and old Diaz who used to 
boss the whole o’ Mexico run him out. I guess 
he’s one good greaser that ain’t dead,” and the boy 
grinned. 

“Oh, Marty!” 

“ Well, maybe he can help. And if his son-in-law 
is sheriff ” 

At that moment Don Jose walked out upon the 
porch and seated himself in his broad armchair. 

“ Come on,” said Marty, seizing his cousin’s hand. 

They approached the hotel veranda. This time 
the proprietor did not rise to greet them. He 
scarcely looked at them, in truth. 

But when Marty spoke Don Jose started upright 
in his chair and stared — ^then arose. 

“ By goodness ! it is so I ” he exclaimed. “ Pardon ! 
I did not recognize. It is, then, that you have as- 
sumed the dress of my countrymen ? ” 

“ We have to go over into Mexico and we thought 
it would be better if we dressed in this way,” Janice 
explained. 

“ It is so,” agreed the old gentleman, nodding 
vigorously. “ And when would you go ? ” 


The Crossing 197 

“ As soon as possible. But there is some- 
thing ” 

‘‘ Manuel is going this evening with an empty 
wagon,” the don said. ‘‘ He will take you to La 
Guarda for five dollars each.” 

** Five dollars Mex? ” put in Marty shrewdly. 

“ But, yes.” 

“ Oh ! but how about Tom Hotchkiss broke 

in Janice. 

“ That feller in the red vest — the American talk- 
ing with you in the store, Don Jose?” questioned 
Marty. “ We want to talk to^you about him.” 

“ You know heem? ” cried the old man amazedly. 
“Why did you not speak to heem, then? He is 
gone.” 

“ Gone ! ” chorused the cousins. 

“ I sorrow to tell you — yes. He is gone this half 
hour. He was bargaining for my best horse, and he 
went out through my stables in the rear. He is 
already at the crossing by now. Si, senorita. I am 
sure your friend — Senor Hoo-kiss, is he called? — 
did not see you.” 

Janice and Marty glanced at each other. The 
boy, first to find his voice, muttered : 

“Of all the gooneys that ever got away from the 
backwoods, we take the bun ! ” 

“ The senorita is greatly disappoint ? ” queried the 
kind old man. “ Senor Hoo-kiss has gone to La 
Guarda. If the senorita and her compadref* and he 


198 The Mission of Janice Day 

smiled at Marty, “ go there she may overtake los 
Americanos, eh? The boy, Manuel, is to be 
trusted.” 

“ We might’s well go, Janice,” groaned Marty. 

No use even waitin’ for dad to answer my tele- 
gram. It’s all off about Tom Hotchkiss.” 

“ Oh! poor Uncle Jason! ” murmured Janice. 

“We’ll take a ride with Manuel, Don Jose,” 
said Marty briskly. “ And can you get us a good 
supper before we start? ” 

“ I will have a chicken killed, sehor,” said the old 
man, going indoors to give the order. 

“ Cricky ! Chicken right off the hoof,” groaned 
Marty. “ Unless they pound it like they say they 
do the boarding-house beefsteak, that pullet will 
sure be tough.” 

“ Rosita is a good cook,” Janice assured him 
wearily. 

“ She’s bound to be,” grinned Marty. “ ’Twasn’t 
wind-pudding that made her as fat as she is, I bet.” 

They tried not to show each other how disap- 
pointed they were over the escape of Tom Hotch- 
kiss. They had found him and lost him so easily ! 
It was positive that the absconding storekeeper did 
not know of the presence of the cousins here; yet 
chance had sent him on his way before they could 
have the man apprehended for the swindle he had 
worked in Polktown. However, this misadventure 
made Janice’s principal object in coming to the 


199 


The Crossing 

Border loom more significantly in her thoughts. She 
must reach San Cristoval and the Alderdice Mine as 
quickly as possible. 

While supper was being prepared and the two 
cousins waited for the teamster, Manuel, Janice 
talked with Don Jose, who was a very intelligent 
person indeed. He assured her that, if the journey 
to San Cristoval was possible at all, it could be 
made from La Guarda on the other side of the river 
as directly as from any place. 

He went so far as to write a letter in Spanish, 
which he carefully translated for Janice’s benefit, to 
the cacique, or mayor, really the “ feudal lord ” of 
La Guarda, asking his good offices for “ my very 
good friends,” as he politely called Janice and 
Marty. 

He will advise you regarding route, conveyance, 
and payment for services,” Don Jose said. Si, si! 
you have the money to pay ? Poderoso Caballero es 
Don Dinero — a powerful gentleman is Mr. Money, 
senorita.” 

The two hurried their departure. At least, Janice 
and Marty hurried their preparations for leaving 
Don Jose’s establishment; but nobody else hurried. 

Manuel hitched in his four mules after a while. 
Then he ate his supper. Half an hour was con- 
sumed in picking his teeth and gossiping with Rosita. 

“ Hi ! senor and senorita 1 ” he finally shouted. 

Los Americanos! We go — alia right?” 


200 The Mission of Janice Day 

The wagon was merely a platform of split poles 
laid over the axletrees of the two pair of wheels, 
connected by a reach. But Marty, mindful of his 
cousin’s comfort, had bought a bundle of thatch for 
a seat. 

She climbed on and Marty followed. Manuel sat 
sidewise on the tongue just behind the mules’ heels. 
He shouted to the animals in Spanish, and the 
mules were off. 

It was a dusty drive to the river, but compara- 
tively cool at this time of day. The cousins did not 
see the red vest of Tom Hotchkiss on the way. He 
had doubtless got over the river before them. 

It was nine o’clock when the mules splashed down 
into the ford. Manuel drew up his feet carefully, so 
as not to get them wet, although he was barefooted. 

“ If they got washed he’d die of the shock,” whis- 
pered Marty to Janice. 

In one place the mules were body deep in the 
yellow, sluggish flood. Janice and Marty stood up : 
but the water did not rise over the platform of the 
wagon. In a few minutes Manuel shouted again to 
the mules and they fought their way up the Mexican 
bank. 

"" Viva MejicoV" ejaculated Manuel. 

‘‘ What’s that for ? ” asked Marty suspiciously. 

'' We haf arrived,” said the teamster. And 
whoever hears us,” he added, squinting about in the 
dusk, “ will know we love la patriaf' 


CHAPTER XX 


ROWELED BY CIRCUMSTANCES 

For the first time since, long before, Janice had 
accused Nelson Haley of taking his duties non- 
seriously, the Polktown School Committee was not 
getting full measure of the young master’s attention. 

The school work slipped along in its usual groove ; 
but Nelson’s mind was not fixed upon it. Indeed, 
his waking thoughts — even his dream fancies — ^were 
flying across the continent with Janice Day toward 
the Mexican Border. 

The shock of learning of Janice’s departure on 
her mission thoroughly awoke Nelson. He blamed 
himself for not accompanying the girl. What must 
she think of him? And he had not even believed 
her courageous enough to start alone when she had 
warned him of her intention! 

“ I was a dunce,” he repeated over and over again. 
'' I should know that Janice always says just what 
she means, means what she says, and, as Walky 
Dexter puts it, has more fighting pluck than a barrel 
of bobcats I ” 

Walky’s tongue was the busiest of any in Polk- 
town during the first few days following the de- 
201 


202 The Mission of Janice Day 

parture of Janice and Marty Day. He was not 
above saying I told you so ! to any and all who 
would listen to him. 

He claimed to have foreseen all along Janice’s in- 
tention of going to her wounded father; but he 
admitted that Marty had fooled him. 

“ Jefers-pelters ! who’d ha’ thought that freckled- 
faced kid would have sneaked out after his cousin 
and got the reach on all us older fellers that ’ud ha’ 
been only too glad ter go in his stead ? Sure, you’d 
ha’ gone with Janice. I’d ha’ gone myself — if my 
wife would ha’ let me. Haw ! haw ! haw 1 But there 
warn’t no wife ter stop you from goin’, Frank.” 

This was addressed to Frank Bowman, who had 
been out of town for some days and had returned to 
find all the neighbors vastly excited over the run- 
aways. 

“ No; I have no wife. But I suppose objections 
might be filed if I had undertaken to go with Janice,” 
the civil engineer said grimly. “ But Marty’s with 
her.” 

Jefers-pelters! ain’t he jest the greatest kid? 
But he’s only a kid,” added Mr. Dexter. 

“ Who has gone after them? ” demanded Frank. 

“Huh? What ye talkin’ ’beout? You expect 
anybody could bring ’em back once they got free 
and foot-loose?” 

“ But isn’t Mr. Day going on to be with them at 
the Border ? ” 


Roweled by Circumstances 203 

“Jase? Great jumpin’ bobcats! how you talk!” 

“ Why not?” 

‘‘ I calculate Jase has got about all he can ’tend to 
financially lookin’ out for them notes he indorsed for 
Tom Hotchkiss. Tom left him holdin’ the bag, ye 
know — er — haw ! haw ! haw ! ” 

I see. No money to go with, eh? ” 

That’s it — if nothin’ more,” agreed Walky. 

Frank said nothing to the town expressman about 
having lent Marty Day the money that the boy had 
evidently needed to pay his traveling expenses. 
Marty certainly could not be blamed. He had shown 
himself wiser regarding Janice and her intentions 
than the older folk. Marty may have handled the 
matter in a boyish way; but Frank Bowman did not 
feel like blaming his young friend. 

He went up Hillside Avenue to the Day house 
that evening and found Nelson Haley there before 
him. The schoolmaster showed a surface placidity 
which was really no criterion of his inner feelings. 

‘‘Well, what’s going to be done about it?” de- 
manded Frank, as soon as he had pulled off his coat. 

Uncle Jason passed him a yellow sheet of paper 
— a telegram. It had been brought over on the 
Constance Colfax that afternoon from the Landing. 
It was the night letter Marty had sent soon after 
leaving Chicago — a short night letter at that : 

“ I got my eye on Janice. She is all right so far.” 


204 The Mission of Janice Day 

Why, he isn’t really with her, after all ! ” said 
Frank. 

‘‘ Oh, but they air together, Mr. Bowman,” cried 
Aunt ’Mira. ** My min’s much relieved. I didn’t 
know but Marty had run away to kill Indians, or 
be a pirate, or sich, like they do in books.” 

‘‘ Boys don’t do that even in books, nowadays, 
Mrs. Day,” Nelson told her. “ They run away from 
home to become jitney bus drivers, or movie actors. 
Indians and pirates are out of date.” 

“You can poke fun,” smiled the woman; “but 
if he’s with Janice he’s all right.” 

Frank Bowman had read the telegram a second 
time. 

“ It’s not altogether sure in my mind,” he said in 
a voice too low for Mrs. Day to hear as she bustled 
about the kitchen, “ that Marty is really with Janice. 
He wasn’t when he sent this message at least.” 

“ Ain’t that a fac’ ? ” exclaimed Mr. Day. 
“ Seems like he is jest a-watchin’ of her.” 

“ For fear she’d try to send him home if he re- 
vealed his presence,” was Nelson’s shrewd observa- 
tion. 

“ You’re mighty right, Haley,” the civil engineer 
agreed. “ That’s what he’s doing.” 

“ Wal,” Mr. Day sighed, “ he’s near her if any- 
thing should happen so’s he could be useful. But 
I ain’t easy in my mind. A gal like her dependin’ 
on a boy like him ” 


Roweled by Circumstances 205 

“ I don’t suppose you could find it possible to go 
down there yourself, Mr. Day?” suggested Frank. 
“ Even if we could find out just where they were 
heading for ? ” 

I snum ! I dunno how I could,” groaned Mr. 
Day. ‘‘ It’d seem fair impossible. I tell you 
frankly, boys, Tom Hotchkiss has left me flat. The 
elder — bless his hide, for he was never knowed to 
do sech a thing afore — ^has offered to take up the 
fust note I indorsed for Tom, and which is now due. 
Otherwise I should be holdin’ a auction, I guess. 
I’m in bad shape.” 

‘‘ It’s too bad, Mr. Day,” sighed Nelson. Is 
the bank going to press you for every cent ? ” 

‘‘ They ain’t feeling so friendly as they did at 
fust,” Uncle Jason admitted. “ At fust it was hoped 
that something might be recovered from the stock 
in the store and the fixtures. But Tom Hotchkiss 
was thorough; ye gotter give him credit for that. 
He’d what they call hypothecated every stitch, and 
we couldn’t even tetch the money in the till — no, 
sir ! ” 

“Too bad,” mused Nelson. 

“ He was a rascal ! ” exclaimed Frank. 

“ He was shrewd,” admitted Uncle Jason. “ An’ 
as nice spoken an’ palaverin’ a cuss as ever I see.” 

“ Sh ! Jason ! don’t swear that-a-way — an’ you a 
perfessin’ member.” 

“ Wal, no use cryin’ over the cream the cat licked 


206 The Mission of Janice Day 

off’n the top of the pan — it’s gone,” groaned Uncle 
Jason. And he’s gone. They tell me the deteca- 
tifs the Bankers’ Association put on his track can’t 
find hide nor hair of him up toward Canady. 

‘‘An’ then,” Uncle Jason went on to say, “the 
bank people hev I’arned a thing or two that didn’t 
please ’em. Of course, ’tain’t none o’ their business, 
but they’d seen Janice scurry in’ around Middletown 
in that little car o’ hern and they got it fixed in their 
heads we Days must be mighty well off.” 

“Reflected glory, eh?” suggested Nelson. 

“ Dunno about the glory part,” sniffed Uncle 
Jason. “ But I have an idee they thought I had so 
much money I could put my hand right in my pocket 
and pay these notes of Tom’s in a bunch. They are 
all call notes, of course. And the bank is tryin’ to 
make the court order me to take ’em up at once.” 

“ That is not a very neighborly thing to do,” said 
Frank. 

“ They seem to be afraid if I’m given time I’ll try 
to cover up some o’ my assets. I snum! when a 
man’s in difficulties with one o’ these banks his past 
repertation for honesty don’t amount to shucks — 
no, sir ! ” 

But the main topic of conversation on this evening 
was the journey of Janice and Marty. What were 
they doing at this very moment ? Where were they 
on the railroad train ? For what point on the Border 
were they aiming? 


Roweled by Circumstances 207 

Frank figured out, from the date and sending 
point of the telegram, the probable route of the 
absent ones to the Mexican line. Yet they could not 
be sure of even this. Not knowing on what train 
Janice and Marty traveled, it was impossible to send 
an answer to Marty's telegram. 

In all probability, however," Frank explained, 
“ El Paso is their ultimate destination, or some town 
of that string along the Rio Grande touched by the 
Texas-Pacific. San Cristoval is to be reached more 
directly from that locality than in any other way, 
now that the Mexican International is out of com- 
mission." 

‘‘ Oh ! don't say they'll really get into Mexico, 
Mr. Bowman ! " cried Aunt 'Mira, who had come 
into the sitting room now. ‘‘ They won't be let, will 
they ? " 

“ Almiry's got the idee," said Mr. Day, that 
there's a file of sojers with fixed bayonets standin' 
all along the aidge of that Rio Grande River, keepin’ 
folks from crossin' over." 

You'd find such a guard at El Paso bridge, all 
right," Frank said. “ But there are plenty of places 
where the river can be forded, unless raised by in- 
frequent floods. Those who wish to, go back and 
forth into Mexican territory as they please — no 
doubt of that." 

“ But Janice and Marty won't know nothing about 
that ! " cried Mrs. Day. 


208 


The Mission of Janice Day 

‘‘ Trust Marty for finding out anything he needs 
to know,’’ put in Nelson, yet with a gloomy air. 

“ You’re right there,” Frank added. “ He isn’t 
tongue-tied.” 

“ Oh, dear ! ” sighed Aunt ’Mira. “ I don’t know 
as shooting Indians or turning pirate would be much 
worse. They say them Mexicaners do shoot people.” 

“ I snum, yes ! ” ejaculated Mr. Day. “ They 
shot Broxton, didn’t they ? ” 

Oh ! you don’t s’pose they’ve got a grudge 
against the Days, do ye ? ” cried the anxious woman. 
“ Maybe they’ll act jest as mean as they kin toward 
any of our fambly.” 

“ No, I do not believe that, Mrs. Day,” Nelson 
hastened to assure her. ‘‘ Janice and Marty will be 
in no more danger down there than any other Ameri- 
cans. Only ” 

“ Only what, Mr. Haley? ” asked Aunt ’Mira. 
They shouldn’t be there alone. Somebody 
should be with them,” said the schoolmaster des- 
perately. 

‘‘ Ain’t that the trewth? ” cried Aunt ’Mira. “ I 
wish I was with ’em myself. I read in the Fireside 
Fav'rife that ’tain’t considered a proper caper, any- 
way, for a young gal to go anywhere much alone 
without a chaperon.” 

At this moment there came a rap upon the side 
porch door. Aunt ’Mira rose to respond, and as she 
went into the little boxlike hall she failed to quite 


Roweled by Circumstances 209 

close the sitting room door. Therefore the trio left 
behind heard plainly the following dialogue : 

“ Miz' Scattergood ! I declare, how flustered you 
look. Come in — do.” 

‘‘ No wonder I’m flustered. I — I No, I 

won’t come no farther than the hall, Miz’ Day. I’ll 
tell ye here.” 

‘‘Oh! what is it?” gasped Aunt ’Mira. 
“ Nothin’s happened to ’Rill? ” 

“ That’s jest what it is. Oh, Miz’ Day, I’m an ol’ 
fool ! ” 

The fact that Mrs. Scattergood was frankly weep- 
ing was what held the trio of men in the sitting room 
silent. 

“ What you done now ? ” demanded Aunt ’Mira 
with a grimness that seemed to point to her special 
knowledge of her visitor’s foolishness on previous 
occasions. I told her the trewth ” 

“ My soul an’ body, Miz’ Scattergood, the trewth 
in your hands is jest as dangerous asi a loaded gun. 
What did you tell her ? ” 

“ ’Bout Janice. Hopewell had been keeping it 
from her — that Janice had gone away, ye know. 
Gone away to Mexico, I mean. And when I told her 

it scart her so I come right over for you, 

Miz’ Day. You’re sech a master-hand when a 
body’s sick.” 

Dr. Poole been there ? ” 

“ Yes. An’ he’s afeard 


210 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ You wait jest a minute,” said Mrs. Day. ** FIl 
put on somethin’ an’ go with ye. But ’tis my 
opinion, Sarah Scattergood, that you oughter wear 
a muzzle ! ” 

The heavy woman bustled about for her things 
without saying a word to her husband and the young 
men until she was ready for departure. 

I’m going over to Hopewell Drugg’s, Jase. Y ou’ll 
hafter git along as best you kin till I come back. 
There’s bread in the breadbox an’ a whole jar of 
doughnuts. Be sure an’ keep the butt’ry door shut 
and put out the cat. There’s suet tryin’ out in the 
oven — don’t fergit it when ye make the fire in the 
mornin’. Maybe I’ll be back by mornin’ ; but Rill’s 
took a bad turn an’ I shell stay if I’m needed. Goo’ 
night, Mr. Haley. Goo’ night, Mr. Bowman.” 

She went out, following the birdlike Mrs. Scat- 
tergood. Soon after Nelson and Frank strolled 
down Hillside Avenue together. Frank had been as 
silent as the schoolmaster for some time. At last 
he said : 

'‘When will you start?” 

Nelson jumped. His face flushed and then paled 
and he stared with darkening eyes into his com- 
panion’s countenance. 

" You — you’re a mind reader,” he said at last, 
trying to laugh. 

“ I only know what Fd do if I were in your 
shoes,” the civil engineer said. " I know how you 


Roweled by Circumstances 211 

feel. I couldn't bear it as well as you have if 

my Well, if anybody belonging to me as Janice 

does to you, Haley, were taking such a trip.” 

Nelson groaned. ‘‘ I don't know what to do. 
The School Committee will raise a row ” 

“ Let 'em,” Frank said briskly. You're making 
it harder for yourself to go by thinking of your 
duties here. Cut loose ! If you went to the hospital 
with a broken leg they'd have to get along without 
you. This is a whole lot more important than a 
broken leg.” 

“You're right!” groaned Nelson, who felt him- 
self roweled by circumstances. “ I must go.” 

“ When?” 

“ It will have to be after the bank opens to-mor- 
row.” 

“You'll go from Middletown, then? I'll see if 
I can get you transportation for part of the way to 
Chicago at least. You're a member of my family,” 
and Frank grinned. 

“ That's awfully good of you,” responded Nelson. 

“ And say!” 

“What is it?” asked the schoolmaster. 

“ How are you fixed financially ? I can put my 
hands on a little more money. You see, I expect it 
is on some of my money that Marty got away.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” 

“ I lent him most of the money I had about me,” 
confessed Frank. “ I didn't know what he wanted 


212 The Mission of Janice Day 

it for — the young rascal! But if you need more 

than you have handy 

‘‘ Thanks ever so much, Bowman ; but Tve quite 
a little saved up now. I sha'nT need such help as 
that.'' 

They parted on the corner and Nelson went home 
to Mrs. Beaseley’s to write his resignation from the 
situation of principal of the Polktown school. He 
was very sure that to leave the school board in the 
lurch in this way, with less than twenty-four hours’ 
notice, would terminate his engagement in this 
school for all time. 

But I must go after Janice — I must! " he 
thought, tossing wakefully in his bed. ‘‘ I can wait 
no longer.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


AT LA GUARDA 

Janice and Marty, clinging together on the rough 
platform of Manuel’s wagon for fear of falling off, 
saw very little of the country through which they 
traveled that evening. That the way was rough 
they knew, and that sparse trees bordered it on 
either hand was likewise apparent even in the dusk. 
But they saw no habitations and no light save the 
distant stars. 

The mules rattled on at a jog-trot, while Manuel 
beguiled the way with untranslatable songs in the 
vernacular. If Marty asked him a question about 
the way or the distance or the time, all Manuel said 
was : 

‘‘ We reech there preety soon, homhre — alia 
right!” 

By and by they did espy lights ahead. It was 
then almost midnight. A group of horsemen arose 
suddenly like shadows out of the mesquite and hailed 
the driver. 

Viva Mejico! ” squalled Manuel before he could 
pull his mules to a standstill. 

A sharp demand in Spanish made Janice cower in 

m 


214 The Mission of Janice Day 

her place on the reach and cling more tightly to 
Marty’s hand. They listened to Manuel chattering 
a reply in which was included Don Jose’s name. In 
a moment they were driving on, undisturbed. 

“ That chief, huh ! he know the good Don Jose,” 
Manuel said to his passengers. 

‘‘Suppose he had not known him?” drawled 
Marty in the semi-gloom. 

They could see that Manuel shrugged his shoul- 
ders ; but he made no other reply. 

The twinkling lights of La Guarda were now near 
at hand. They were not halted but rattled into the 
sprawling little town and on to a large, square, low 
building, the entrance to which was a wide and dimly 
lighted archway. 

“ Hi tunket ! ” breathed Marty. “ It looks like a 
police station. D’you s’pose we’re going to be 
pinched, Janice ? ” 

But he grinned as he asked the question and 
got down nonchalantly enough, to help his cousin 
alight. 

“ Not much like the calaboose at Middletown,” he 
observed. 

“ You horrid boy! ” Janice said. “ Are you try- 
ing to scare me ? ” 

“ Couldn’t do it,” declared Marty with admiration. 
“ You’re a reg’lar feller, Janice.” 

“ Thank you, dear. I know you mean to compli- 
ment me. Now, what is Manuel doing?” 


At La Guarda 


215 


The teamster had called some question into the 
empty archway of the building, repeating it several 
times. There now appeared a little, shrewd-looking 
Spaniard without a spear of hair on either head or 
face, and wearing a flapping gown over what was 
plainly his pajamas. 

Manuel and this apparition gabbled in their own 
tongue for several minutes; then the teamster ges- 
tured toward the bald man, saying to Marty : 

“ Senor Don Abreguardo. He will tak’ you in — 
alia right. Mi diner o, senor f' 

This was a request for payment, as Marty very 
well knew, so the boy handed over a five-dollar gold 
piece. Manuel looked at the coin suspiciously, bit it, 
rang it on one of the flagstones, weighed it thought- 
fully in his palm, and finally pocketed it and drove 
off without further word. 

‘‘What do you know about that?” murmured 
Marty. 

Janice had already turned to the old man in the 
flapping gown. He bowed very low to her. 

“ Within,” he said clearly, in good English if a 
little stilted in diction — “ within lies my poor house. 
We Mexicans have no word for ‘ home,’ senorita ; 
but la patria means more than country. All I pos- 
sess save la patria lies herein. It is yours.” 

“ Why, he is even more polite than Don Jose,” 
whispered the girl as they followed the Mexican who 
had evidently got out of bed to attend them. 


216 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ Ye-as/’ Marty said slowly. “ But it seems to 
me they offer too much.” 

“ They are not as cautious as us Yankees,” his 
cousin said, smiling. 

Now youVe said a mouthful,” announced the 
boy with emphasis. 

The passage through the wall led to a roomy court 
around which the house was built. There was the 
tinkle of water falling into a basin, the fresh smell 
of vegetation, and by the light of the stars Janice 
saw that trees were growing here. 

It is late, sehorita and senor. My family have 
retired. I will assign you both rooms and in the 
morning we will become acquainted — eh ? ” said the 
don. “ This way, please. You are brother and 
sister ? ” 

‘‘ Cousins,” Janice explained. 

** Ah — yes. You would not be separate far — 
eh? This room for you, then, sehorita. The next 
on the right for our young senor — eh ? ” 

Lamps burned in both rooms. They were com- 
fortably furnished and the stone floor had rugs 
upon it. 

“ You will be undisturbed here, I assure you. In 
the morning, sehorita, a woman will wait upon you.” 

He bowed and clattered away in his hard, heel- 
less slippers. 

Seems like a good sort of a creature, after all,” 
Marty said. Don Abreguardo, eh ? ” 


At La Guarda 


217 


Janice made no reply save to bid him good-night 
and entered her room. She had lost that feeling 
of uncertainty and actual fear that had oppressed 
her. The future promised more cheer than she had 
believed possible. 

Those back in Polktown had been entirely wrong. 
Her own judgment seemed to have been the sounder. 
Here she was, over the Border, miles on the way to 
her wounded father! 

And everybody so kind ! she thought as she 
sank to sleep on the comfortable couch under the 
canopy. “ Only I wish we might have caused the 
arrest of that Tom Hotchkiss.” 

It seemed to the weary girl as though she closed 
her eyes and opened them immediately upon the 
broad sunshine and the tinkling fountain in the court 
of Don Abreguardo’s dwelling. She heard Marty's 
voice and that of their host outside. 

Janice arose and found herself well rested after 
her repose. She drew the lattices at the window 
and their clatter aroused something else. 

Just inside her closed door, leaning against the 
wall, was something she had not before noticed. 
It looked like a bag of old clothes covered by a 
purple serape. This began to move, quite startling 
the girl for an instant. 

The serape was put aside languidly and a bare 
brown arm appeared. Janice retreated to the other 
side of the canopied bed and watched. A girl’s head 


218 


The Mission of Janice Day 

was revealed — lank, black hair, a very dark face with 
high cheek bones, bead-black eyes, and huge silver 
rings hanging in the lobes of her ears, fairly touch- 
ing her bared shoulders. 

“ What do you want here ? ” gasped Janice. 

“ I am the one sent, senorita ! ’’ ejaculated the girl 
in English. '' I help you, senorita. It is an honor.” 
And, having risen quickly and as gracefully as a 
panther, she bowed. 

“ Oh ! you are the maid ? ” 

St, senorita! ” 

Janice decided she must be an Indian — one of 
pure blood. There was a look about her different 
from that of the Mexican girls she had seen. 

What is your name?” asked the girl from the 
North, giving herself up to the ministrations of the 
maid, who seemed quite skillful. 

“ Luz, senorita, is what I am called. It is the little 
name for Lucita, senorita.” 

‘‘ You have worked long for Don Abreguardo? ” 

“ I was born in the house, senorita,” said the girl, 
with a flash of her white teeth. 

‘‘Is there a large family?” Janice asked doubt- 
fully. “ I am a stranger, you know.” 

“ His mother lives — the ancient Donna Abre- 
guardo. He now has his second wife, has the good 
don. By his first he has two daughters and a son. 
Young Don Ricardo is married and is at the 
Hacienda del Norte. The two senoritas are of the 


At La Guarda 219 

marriageable age — oh, yes! But in these troubled 
times who has thought for marriage? ’’ 

'' And this is all his family? ” 

“ There are the children. Three. Of the good 
don’s second marriage. He has his quiver full, as 
my people say,” and the Indian maid chuckled. 

She seemed so intelligent that Janice would have 
continued the conversation had she not heard Marty 
moving so impatiently about the courtyard. 

'' Come on, Janice I ” he said as she appeared. 
‘‘ There’s breakfast waiting — and it ain’t all beans. 
I’m as hungry as a shark.” 

A table was laid, with covered dishes on it, near 
the fountain. The courtyard was a clean, com- 
fortable place. The style of living familiar to the 
Abreguardos was of course entirely new to Janice 
and her cousin. Luz ” waited upon the guests. 

Don Abreguardo came bustling into the court 
before they had finished the repast. Now that he 
was dressed, he proved to be a very dapper figure of 
an old gentleman, his bald poll hidden by a cap. 

‘‘ This is a fine day — by goodness, yes ! ” he an- 
nounced. Have you attended the senorita with 
diligence, Luz ? ” 

‘‘ As I would the Donna Isabella herself,” de- 
clared the Indian handmaid. 

You may bring my coffee here. We will talk.” 

It seemed it was a coffee-making machine he de- 
sired. He was very particular about his coffee, was 


220 


The Mission of Janice Day 

Don Abreguardo — liked it black and thick and drank 
it without sugar or cream. 

While the coffee dripped he said, bowing to 
Janice : 

I have read the letter from my very good friend, 
Don Jose Fez, which you so kindly gave me last 
night, sehorita. He tells me you have need of haste 
in making your way to Los Companos District? ” 

“ It is true, sir,^’ Janice said eagerly. “ My father 
was wounded quite three weeks ago. So we heard. 
Since then we have not learned a thing about him.’’ 

“ He is at one mine beyond San Cristoval ? ” 

The Alderdice. He has been chief man there 
for more than three years.” 

""Si, si! I understand,” said Sehor Abreguardo. 
“ There has been trouble in that vicinity, it is true. 
But it seems things always quiet down — even the 
worst.” 

After this more or less comforting assurance the 
old man sat thinking for a minute or two with lips 
pursed. Now and then he took sips of his first cup 
of coffee. 

'' Were your haste not what it is, sefiorita,” he 
said at length, “ I would urge you to remain — you 
and your young compadre — until I might send for 
certain news of your father. But you are anxious in 
your mind — by goodness, yes ! ” 

Oh! indeed I am,” cried Janice. 

Then we must forego the pleasure of your pres- 


At La Guarda 


221 


ence here at my poor dwelling,” the senor said 
politely. There is a way of going soon, I believe, 
to San Cristoval. Carlitos Ortez goes in his gas- 
car — his tm Leezie, he call it. You know?” and 
their host grinned suddenly. 

Cricky ! an automobile ? ’’ gasped Marty. '‘Just 
the caper ! ” 

“ Si, si! ” said Senor Abreguardo. “ Carlitos, he 
swear by the tin Leezie. He will take you to San 
Cristoval if his car, it do not br-r-eak down — by 
goodness, yes! 

“ I hear,” the man went on, nodding and still sip- 
ping coffee, “ last evening before you arrive, 
senorita, Carlitos have engage to transport another 
traveler up country. He may take three passengers 
in his car as easily as one — and you will pay him 
twenty American dollars apiece.” 

“ Whew ! ” murmured the frugal Marty. 
“ Couldn’t we buy his flivver for that and run it 
ourselves ? ” 

The sefior’s eyes twinkled. “ He would charge 
you double — I assure you,” he said. “ Carlitos is 
no lover of los Americanos. But he will do as I 
say. Besides,” added the man very sensibly, “ you 
would not know the road, and no American un- 
attended could easily pass the bands of rovers now 
infesting this district.” 

“ Sounds nice, don’t it ? ” whispered Marty to 
Janice. “ What say? ” 


222 The Mission of Janice Day 

Oh, Marty ! I must go on,’’ said the girl. 

Sure 1 All right, we take you,” said Marty to 
Senor Abreguardo. 

“ You will pay Carlitos Ortez half of the money 
before you start — pay it into my hands,” explained 
the don. And the end of your journey — San Cris- 
toval, for he cannot go beyond that point — ^you will 
pay him the remainder and give him a paper as- 
suring me that he has performed his part of the 
contract. You are thus safeguarded, and I shall 
have done my duty by Don Jose’s friends,” con- 
cluded Senor Abreguardo, bowing over his coffee 
cup. 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE RED VEST AGAIN 

Carlitos Ortez was one of those snaky-looking, 
black-haired peons, with a wisp of jetty mustache, 
who serve as the type of Mexican villains in lurid 
melodrama — and he had the heart of a child! 

Janice might have been afraid of the quick-mo- 
tioned, nervous little man had she been of a less 
observant nature. But she saw his eyes— -deep 
brown, placid like a forest pool. The eyes served 
to make Carlitos almost handsome. 

The automobile came to the archway of Sehor 
Abreguardo’s house in an hour. Janice and Marty 
did not meet any of the man's family. The Indian 
maiden, Lucita, told Janice that the ladies of the 
household seldom stirred from their apartments 
until after siesta. 

But the don himself stood bareheaded in the sun 
to see them start. Carlitos had put Janice and 
Marty into the back of the car. 

‘‘ That other hombre — I peek him up later. He 
sit weeth me,” he explained. 

When they got under way with a good deal of 
rattle and banging, Marty, jouncing against his 


224 The Mission of Janice Day 

cousin as the car went over a stone in the road, 
sniffed. 

‘‘‘Tin Lizzie r He said it!” the boy growled. 
“This jitney’s about one-candle power, isn’t it? 
D’you s’pose there’ re any springs — ugh — on the 
contraption at all ? ” 

“ Let’s not fuss,” said Janice. “ Think how much 
worse it would be if we had to ride horses — or 
mules. All of those I have seen have been half 
wild.” 

“ Hi tunket ! this flivver’s wild enough, I should 
think,” Marty declared, as the car skidded around 
a corner. 

La Guarda was not a large town, and they were 
not long in getting to the edge of it. Under the 
shade of a low-roofed tavern a man was standing — 
quite a bulky man. 

“ There ees my other passenger,” said Carlitos 
over his shoulder. “ He of los Americanos, too. I 
theenk he go up country to buy horses. He horse 
trader. Sell beeg horse last night to Don Abre- 
guardo.” 

Janice had seized Marty’s hand and squeezed it 
hard. She was not listening to Carlitos, but staring 
at the man on the veranda of the tavern. 

He wore one of the high-crowned, wide-brimmed 
hats of the country; but he was not otherwise 
dressed like the Mexicans. His waistcoat made a 
vivid splotch of color as he stood in the shade. 


The Red Vest Again 225 

** Cricky ! ” gasped Marty. “ Tom Hotchkiss ! red 
vest, an’ all ! ” 

‘‘ Oh, it is, Marty ! ” agreed his cousin. 

And we can’t do a thing to him ! ” groaned the 
boy. ‘‘ He’s gettin’ farther away from the Border; 
afraid of being nabbed, I s’pose.” 

“ I hope he will not recognize us.” 

We’ll be dummies. Keep that veil thing over 
your face, Janice, then he won’t know you from one 
of these greaser girls. An’ he’ll take me for a Mexi- 
can, too.” 

“ Thank you ! ” murmured Janice tartly, and 
Marty grinned teasingly. 

There was no time for further planning. The 
automobile halted, panting, at the tavern and the 
man wearing the red vest came out with his bag. 

Close to, he was not to be mistaken for anybody 
but Tom Hotchkiss, the absconding Polktown store- 
keeper. He was a man of girth, with short legs. 
His head was set low upon a pair of heavy shoulders. 
Indeed, he possessed little visible neck — scarcely 
enough on which to put a collar. 

Tom Hotchkiss was of the apoplectic build to 
suffer in a warm climate; and the sun, even at this 
time of year, seemed almost tropical to these New 
Englanders. He had discarded none of his ordinary 
dress save his hat, and that looked incongruous 
enough with his brown cutaway coat, the red vest, 
gray trousers, and spats. 


226 The Mission of Janice Day 

He certainly is a hot member to look at,” mut- 
tered Marty Day, as the man approached the car. 

Hotchkiss stared curiously at the other pas- 
sengers; but Janice hid her face with her veil and 
the broad brim of Marty’s hat quite sheltered his 
freckled countenance from casual observation. 

“ Friends of Don Abreguardo, senor,” explained 
Carlitos. “ They go weeth us.” 

He cranked up again, and the automobile began to 
shake and quiver “ like an elephant with the palsy,” 
to quote the disgusted Marty. 

‘‘ Say ! ” he whispered, this isn’t much like your 
Kremlin — believe me ! ” 

They started. A dog got up from his bed in the 
dust of the road, yapped at them languidly, and lay 
down again in his form. The car skidded around 
another corner and they were immediately in the 
open country. Climbing a long hill the automobile 
seemed a dozen times on the point of being stalled; 
but no — she kept pluckily on to the summit. 

On the down-grade beyond this rise the car went 
SOI fast — thumping and crashing over outcropping 
roots and other obstructions — that Janice cried out 
in alarm. 

‘‘ If we don’t meet nothin’ we’re all right — eh? ” 
shouted Carlitos above the roar of the car. “ The 
brake, she done bust.” 

‘‘ Huh ! ” muttered Marty. One thing sure, we 
can go as fast as this old ‘ tin Lizzie ’ can.” 


227 


The Red Vest Again 

This did not sound altogether reassuring to 
Janice. She unlatched the door on her side of the 
tonneau, ready to jump out if it looked as though 
the reckless driver was about to bring them to 
disaster. 

The man in the red vest hung on to the side, and, 
short as his neck was, the two passengers in the 
tonneau could see that roll of fat above the collar 
of his shirt turning pale ! 

Tom's getting white around the gills," whis- 
pered Marty to his cousin, chuckling. He frightens 
easy. I wonder if we could scare him into giving up 
that cash and helping dad ? " 

‘‘ But — but he surely ha-hasn’t all that mo-money 
with him," was jounced out of Janice’s lips in a 
staccato whisper. 

‘‘ He ain’t forgot where he put it nor how to get 
hold of it again, you bet ! ’’ growled Marty. “ Hi 
tunket ! this sun ought to sweat it out of him. Ain’t 
it hot?" 

“ And dusty," sighed Janice. “ Oh, thank good- 
ness! here’s the bottom of the hill." 

Carlitos grinned back at them — the smile of a 
wolf, but with his kind eyes twinkling. 

“ How you do, eh ? The sehorita not like such 
traveling — by goodness, no? ’’ he said. ‘‘ But if we 
travel not fast on the — what you call ? — down-grade, 
we not travel far, perhaps, yes ? ’’ 

Janice covered her countenance and made no 


228 The Mission of Janice Day 

reply, for the startled face of Hotchkiss was like- 
wise turned back. 

You don’t have to go so fast on my account,” 
he snarled. “ I got all the time there is.” 

“ Cricky ! ” whispered Marty. ‘‘ Fd like to hear 
him say that after the judge and jury get through 
with him. He ought to get life for what he’s done.” 

‘‘ Sh! ” begged Janice. ‘‘ It will do no good to 
quarrel with him here.” 

They rattled on through a pleasant valley, with 
here and there a bunch of cattle or horses grazing. 
Occasionally a vaquero dashed past and waved his 
hand in greeting to Carlitos Ortez. The latter 
seemed to fall into a gloomy mood and for two 
hours did not speak. 

Then he stopped the car beside a well at the edge 
of the chaparral and there in the shade the pas- 
sengers alighted, while Carlitos filled his radiator 
and tinkered with parts of the machine that seemed 
to need attention. 

Janice and Marty managed to keep away from 
Tom Hotchkiss and spoke only in low tones. Per- 
haps the man with the red vest believed his fellow- 
passengers to be Mexicans, like Carlitos. 

“Who owns all this land?” Hotchkiss asked. 

Carlitos jerked his head out from under the car 
where he had been fumbling, and scowled. 

“ By the right of God, senor, I own part of it. All 
of Mejico is ours — the people’s. We own. But the 


The Red Vest Again 229 

reech and the strong have taken away our lands — 
by goodness, yes ! ” 

‘‘ Well, you haven’t got anything on folks every- 
where,” declared Hotchkiss. “ The strong and the 
shrewd get it all — you bet ! ” 

“ This,” and Carlitos swept a gesture including all 
the valley, “ is the rancher o of Sehor Baldasso 
Nunez. He is a buzzard.” 

Yes?” 

‘‘ His father was a buzzard before him — the old 
sehor. Look you ! ” cried Carlitos with growing 
excitement. “ My grandfather was a boy in the 
old sehor’s time. He is past eighty now and still 
working for the present Sehor Baldasso.” 

“ A long while to keep one job,” said Hotchkiss. 

“ Listen, sehor! At sixteen my grandfather was 
a big, fine, strong man — like me. He wish to marry 
a certain girl — she is my grandmother. Well! It 
is so that the old sehor hear about my grandfather’s 
wish — by goodness, yes! He send to my grand- 
father and offer a hundred pesos so he may pay the 
priest for to marry him and my grandfather accept, 
sehor.” 

'' That was mighty neighborly of the sehor,” ob- 
served the Yankee storekeeper. 

“ Yes-s ? ” hissed Carlitos. ‘‘ One hundred pesos, 
mind — and the Church take all of that. Between the 
church and the landowners we are ground to 
powder ! 


230 The Mission of Janice Day 

Mind you, sehor, it was for becoming man and 
wife, and for the raising of seven sons and daughters 
and, now, of over thirty of my generation. My 
grandfather and all the men and boys living of his 
race, save me and a brother who is with the raiders, 
are still working for Sehor Baldasso to pay oif that 
hundred pesos! 

‘‘ What you think of that, sehor, huh ? 

Aw — that don’t seem sensible,” said Hotchkiss. 

Haven’t you paid the original debt ? ” 

Si, sehor ! that is the truth. Always are we kep’ 
in debt to Sehor Baldasso. Me, I get out — turn 
outlaw you say — buy this ‘ tin Leezie ’ — mak’ money 
plenty. But none of it go to that Sehor Baldasso — 
by goodness, no ! ” 

‘‘ So you aren’t helping pay off the family debt? ” 
drawled Hotchkiss. 

“ No, sehor. Sometime I hope to,” said Carlitos 
grimly. 

Yes?” 

‘‘ At once. All of a piece. You understand? ” 

** You mean you’re going to make money enough 
to close the account with the old man ? ” 

Not money,” and Carlitos smiled his wolf-like 
smile again. “ I hope to help hang Sehor Baldasso 
at the door of his own hacienda — by goodness, yes ! ” 

Marty exploded a mighty ‘‘ Cricky ! ” Then he 
asked : ‘‘ Is that why you Mexicans are fightine all 
the time?” 


231 


The Red Vest Again 

“To get back our land — our own. To govern 
ourselves. Si, senor/’ Carlitos declared eagerly. 
“ We long for a deliverer — a devoted leader who 
will free us from taskmasters both native and 
foreign. But we desire no foreign intervention — by 
goodness, no! Hands off, gringos. I weesh that 
Rio Grande,” he concluded, pointing into the north- 
eastern distance, “ were ten thousand miles wide.” 

“Heh!” ejaculated Tom Hotchkiss, peering in 
the direction Carlitos pointed. “ Is that the river 
— just over there?” 

“ It is five miles away, sefior.” 

“ But I thought you were taking me away from 
the river all this time ? ” sputtered the other. 
“Why! that’s the Border, isn’t it?” 

“ But yes, senor. We have to follow the road. I 
cannot drive the tin Leezie through the chaparral.” 

“ I don’t like it,” muttered the man. “ I thought 
we were already a long way from the States.” 

Marty nudged his cousin. “ Scart as he can be, 
Janice,” he whispered. “‘By goodness, yes!’ I 
believe if we had the time, we could march old 
Red Vest back over the Border and clap him into 
jail!” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE BANDITS 

The party got under way once more, Carlitos 
again silent and, Janice thought, Tom Hotchkiss 
eyeing her and Marty from time to time suspiciously. 
The fugitive had discovered that the couple in the 
back of the car were not Mexicans, and Hotchkiss 
was suspicious of all Americans. Indeed, he was 
living a very uneasy existence. Being naturally of 
a cowardly nature, even the distance he had put be- 
tween himself and Polktown did not seem to his 
mind great enough to insure safety. The fact that, 
although they had been four hours on the road from 
La Guarda to San Cristoval, they were only five 
miles from the Rio Grande, greatly excited him. 

Had their errand to San Cristoval and beyond 
not been so pressing, Janice and Marty might have 
conspired with Carlitos to get the swindling store- 
keeper back over the Border at some point where 
an American law officer could be found. 

Janice believed she could do this. She was feeling 
much more certain of herself than she had on the 
train. Two days at the Border had made a great 
change in Janice Day. Marty was not the only in- 


The Bandits 


233 


dependent one. The girl felt that, after all, the 
world outside her heretofore sheltered life was not 
so very difficult. 

Thus far she had met nothing but kindness from 
people whom she had not expected to be kind. The 
way to her father seemed to be wide open before 
her. She was going to accomplish her mission with- 
out an iota of the trouble she had feared. 

However, as this was not the time to make the 
attempt to bring Hotchkiss to justice she pulled the 
veil closer over her face and avoided the man’s eyes 
when he chanced to look back. She hoped the fellow 
was just worried. Of course, being a thief and a 
swindler, he was suspicious of everybody. He 
showed very plainly that he distrusted even 
Carlitos. The Mexican, however, seemed in a 
cheerful mood again. His outbreak against the 
“ buzzard,” Sehor Baldasso Nunez, must have re- 
lieved his mind. 

They rattled up hill and down dale. Don Abre- 
guardo’s handmaid had put a basket of lunch into 
the car. At another well they stopped and ate this, 
Janice offering some to Carlitos and to his fat and 
perspiring seat mate. 

‘‘ But yes, sehorita,” Carlitos said politely. ‘‘ We 
do not reach La Gloria till sunset. Then we eat at 
Tomas Lopez’s hotel. Fine hotel — by goodness, 
yes!” 

‘‘ Why didn’t you tell me it was so far ? ” grum- 


234 The Mission of Janice Day 

bled Tom Hotchkiss. ‘‘ I would have brought some- 
thing along to eat.” 

Carlitos shrugged his shoulders. I forget,” he 
said. Me, I have plent' tobac^ for roll cigareet ; 
what more any hombre need, I see not ! ” 

They went on, passing through a village now and 
then. Having turned now directly from the river, 
Tom Hotchkiss seemed in a better mood. He com- 
mented frankly upon the miserable habitations and 
the miserable people he saw. 

“ I don’t see what they get out of it,” he observed. 

Filthy rags to clothe them, nothing to eat but 
beans, and most of the houses no better than pig- 
stys. Why! even the chickens — look at ’em, will 
you ? They ain’t fit to eat, they’re so scrawny.” 

‘' They are not for eat, sehor,” said Carlitos 
softly. “ They are for fight.” 

“ For fighting, you mean? ” 

Si, senor. The Mexican may be poor, but never 
too poor to fight good game cock on Sunday after 
mass — by goodness, yes ! ” 

In one of the villages Carlitos slowed down — then 
stopped. There was a group of old women squat- 
ting in the street before the door of an adobe dwell- 
ing. They swayed from side to side, moaning in 
unison, while now and then one would lift up her 
head and wail aloud. 

“What is the matter with them?” demanded 
Janice. 


The Bandits 


235 


Carlitos had removed his hat and crossed himself, 
muttering a prayer. “ It is a funeral, sehorita,’’ he 
explained. “ See ! they carry heem to his grave.’’ 

Four men came forth from the house, carrying a 
packing case on their shoulders. This makeshift 
casket had stenciled on its end : ‘‘ Glass. Use No 
Hooks.” The intimation that the corpse was so 
fragile amused Marty. 

‘‘ Hi tunket ! ” he murmured. Don’t these folks 
down here beat ev’rything you ever saw Janice? ” 

The old women mourners scuttled out of the way. 
A band of three musicians, whose instruments con- 
sisted of a cornet, a piccolo, and a drum, appeared 
and headed the procession. All the village fell in 
behind the band and the pall-bearers, two and two, 
and when they turned out of the main street to 
mount the hill toward the cemetery, Carlitos cranked 
up again and the car went on, leaving the funeral 
cortege marching blithely to the strains of a well- 
known Mexican air. 

The wail of the cornet, the squealing of the pic- 
colo, and the rattle of the drum accompanied the 
automobile out of town and a long way into the 
country. They began to mount into higher ground 
the farther they got from the river. It was almost 
sunset as Carlitos had prophesied when they saw 
La Gloria lying above them on a cheerful mesa. 

The town was nearly ringed around by green 
trees. The main streets were paved. The plaza, or 


236 The Mission of Janice Day 

central square, was gay with shops and there was a 
bandstand. Sehor Tomas Lopez’s hotel was about 
on a par with the Pez hostelry at Fort Hancock. 

But after the dusty and nerve-racking ride in the 
automobile a chance for quiet, a bath, and relaxation 
between the clean coarse sheets of a bed, seemed 
heavenly to Janice Day. She really did not want to 
get up for supper. 

Marty, however, kept calling to her and would not 
be denied. He had found out that there was beef- 
steak — of a sort — for supper. 

I never did realize before,” he sadly admitted, 
“how tired a feller could get of just beans. I 
never want ma, when I get home again, to have ’em 
on Saturday nights and Sunday mornings — never! 
Shucks ! I feel like I was turning into a bean my- 
self. I bet if you planted me I’d sprout into a bean- 
stalk.” 

They sat in the window till late in the evening 
and watched the people in the square. There was a 
band and it played some of the popular airs they 
were familiar with in the North. But when it 
essayed the native music Janice liked it better. 

Old and young promenaded, the girls in bright 
costumes, the young caballeros in garments quite as 
gay — sashes, short velvet jackets, sombreros with 
cords of silver bullion, and some of them with 
clattering silver spurs on their heels. Here and 
there scuffled an Indian through the throng in a 


The Bandits 


237 


brightly dyed serape. The older women sat on 
benches or in the arched doorways, many of them 
smoking big, black cigars. And the children were 
everywhere, but more nearly dressed than they had 
been at the Border. Up here on the mesa the nights 
were chilly. 

They got out of La Gloria very early in the morn- 
ing, for Carlitos assured them it would be a long 
day's journey to San Cristoval even if nothing hap- 
pened to the automobile. 

“ An' me, I never know when she goin' to break 
down," he said with one of his disarming smiles. 

Hotchkiss quarreled with the Mexican before the 
party got off. ** How do I know where you're 
takin' me ? I can't buy a map of the country — don't 
believe they ever made one down here. And who 
are these folks I’m a-travelin' with? I thought they 
were Mex; but I see they are white folks." 

“ What am I — nigger, huh? " demanded Carlitos. 
‘‘ You not lik-a travel weeth me, you pay me an' stop 
here. I no care." 

'' We won’t bite you. Mister," drawled Marty, 
keeping well in the background, however. What 
are you scared of ? " 

What’s your name ? " growled Hotchkiss sus- 
piciously. 

“ Down here it's George Washington. What’s 
yours? ” returned Marty, chuckling and backing still 
further away. 


238 The Mission of Janice Day 

‘'Just as near Abraham Lincoln as yours is 
George Washington/^ snarled Hotchkiss. 

Marty and Janice got into the car, having gone 
around back of it to enter from the opposite side. 
Hotchkiss climbed in beside the Mexican driver, still 
muttering about “ not knowing where he was bound 
for.” 

The road was rougher than it had been the day 
before and much of the way it was ascending. So 
the automobile went slowly. The engine sputtered 
— and so did Tom Hotchkiss. Carlitos was sunk 
in sullen mood and his comments — usually addressed 
to the car — were in Spanish, and scarcely trans- 
latable. 

Janice became exceedingly weary before the 
morning was half over. Riding over plowed 
ground in a springless cart would have been little 
worse than being jounced about in this automobile. 

They did not rest even during siesta, only stop- 
ping long enough for Carlitos to mend his car with 
a piece of wire and what Janice supposed must be 
much Spanish profanity. The journey was getting 
on the Mexican’s nerves as it was upon that of his 
passengers. 

At certain places they were stopped by rough- 
looking men — some of them armed. Carlitos made 
his explanations in his own tongue. Tom Hotch- 
kiss was growing visibly panic-stricken. He had 
doubtless been afraid of arrest on the United States 


The Bandits 


239 


side of the Border; but the appearance of these 
bands of seemingly masterless vagabonds frightened 
the runaway storekeeper from Polktown still more. 

It was mid-afternoon and the automobile was 
limping along through a wild valley, when above the 
coughing of the engine Janice heard the rat-a-plan 
of hoofbeats. She looked around earnestly, and 
finally spied a company of horsemen charging cross- 
country toward the trail the automobile was follow- 
ing. 

“ Oh ! who are those? she cried, leaning forward 
to place her hand on Carlitos’ shoulder. 

He looked up, saw the cavalcade, and jerked the 
steering wheel a little. They bumped into a bowlder, 
the car shot back, and then the engine died with an 
awful rattle. 

" Carramba! sputtered Carlitos. ** We have the 
accident now — ^yes, huh ? ” 

‘'But who are those men?” repeated Janice. 
“ They see us. They are coming this way.” 

Carlitos stood up to look. He shrugged his 
shoulders. 

“ That is Dario Gomez riding in their lead. He 
is a great bandit chief, senorita. Now we are — 
what you call ? — in for it — ^by goodness, yes ! ” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE SITUATION BECOMES DIFFICULT 

They had halted beside a dense patch of chapar- 
ral. Carlitos had scarcely thrown his verbal bomb 
when Tom Hotchkiss slid out of his seat and dived 
into the thicket beside the narrow road like a wood- 
chuck into its hole. No fat man ever disappeared 
more quickly. 

Janice and Marty were too disturbed by the an- 
nouncement of the automobile driver, and too 
startled withal, to note Hotchkiss’ departure. The 
bandits, headed by Dario Gomez, swung into the 
trail and charged immediately down upon the stalled 
automobile. 

The band consisted of nearly forty — an unusually 
large and important commando, as the Mexican 
banditti rove the country mostly in small parties, 
preying on whomever may have anything worth 
taking, and keeping up a desultory warfare against 
the troops of whatever de facto government may at 
the time be in power in Mexico City. 

“ Hi tunket ! ” exploded Marty. “ What are we 
going to do now ? ” 


240 


The Situation Becomes Difficult 241 

Carlitos shrugged his shoulders, sat down, and 
began to roll the ever present cigarette. As the 
young senor says, ‘ 'I tunkeet! ’ ” quoted the Mexi- 
can. ‘‘ What can we do but submeet ? 

“Submit to what, Carlitos?” whispered Janice. 
“What is the danger from these men?” 

“ Quien sdbef ” drawled the driver of the car. 
“We are in the hands of God, senor ita.” 

The leader of the fierce-looking band was a man 
with long, waving mustachios, a regular piratical- 
looking hirsute adornment. He carried a white, 
ugly scar across his right cheek — evidently the 
memento of a more or less recent saber wound. 
He spoke first of all in Spanish to Carlitos while his 
wildly riding followers — ^plainly vaqueros all — 
dragged their mounts back to a dramatic halt about 
the stalled car, surrounding the party with a cloud 
of dust. 

Carlitos drawled a reply and gestured toward his 
remaining passengers. Dario Gomez exclaimed : 

''Americanos — and in the habit of friends? 
What means this ? ” 

He spoke very good English. His eyes flashed, 
but his mustache lifted at the corners as though he 
laughed. 

Marty was tongue-tied for the moment. The 
threatening aspect of the cavalcade and especially 
of Dario Gomez himself was too much for the non- 
chalance of the boy. Even the hidden weapon in 


242 The Mission of Janice Day 

his sash gave him no comfort, for these forty 
thieves ” were all armed to the teeth. 

It was a difficult situation. Carlitos evidently had 
no help to offer. Indeed he seemed to feel no par- 
ticular responsibility, though he was not closely as- 
sociated with these lusty vagabonds. 

“ What means this masquerade, senor and 
sehorita ? ” Dario Gomez repeated. 

It was Janice who stepped into the breach — and 
stepped from the car as well. She approached the 
charger ridden by the bandit chief, putting aside the 
veil that had half hidden her face. 

Senor,’^ she said earnestly, will you not help 
me get to my father ? The car has broken down and 
we are still a long way from San Cristoval — are we 
not, Carlitos?’’ 

“ Huh ? By goodness, yes ! ” replied the amazed 
driver. 

My cousin and I,” pursued Janice Day, ‘‘ have 
come across the States to find my father — from far 
beyond Chicago — from beyond New York. I must 
find him quickly, sir. He is wounded — ^perhaps 
dying ! Will you help me ? ” 

“ Who is your padre, senorita ? ” Dario Gomez 
asked. How was he wounded ? ” 

“ Mr. Broxton Day is my father. He is chief at 
the Alderdice Mine, beyond San Cristoval.” 

'‘Ah! beyond the town, you say? We have no 
power there, sehorita. Not now. Old Whiskers 


The Situation Becomes Difficult 243 

rules up there once again — and with a strong 
arm.” 

Janice did not know to whom he referred as “ Old 
Whiskers ” ; possibly to some petty chief like him- 
self. She remembered the name of a rebel leader 
who had been her father’s friend in the past and 
she urged : 

I am sure my father would not have been at- 
tacked at all had Sehor Juan Dicampa been still 
alive. He was my father’s friend.” 

‘‘ Ha ! the Dicampa ? He was my friend, too,” 
returned Gomez. “ But he joined forces with the 
conqueror — and was shot for his treachery.” 

‘‘Oh!” 

“ Juan Dicampa ended as so many deliverers end 
— as an apostle of ‘ the loaves and fishes.’ Ha ! ” 
ejaculated Dario Gomez. “ I and my followers, we 
are as yet poor enough to be honest. God keep us 
so!” 

“ But my father has surely done nobody harm,” 
cried Janice. “ I am sure his name must be known 
for justice and kindness in the Companos District.” 

“ It is true, mi general,^* said one of Gomez’s 
men softly. “ I am acquaint’ weeth the Sehor 
B-Day. He is a gran homhref' 

Dario Gomez pushed back his sombrero and ran 
a hand through his thick, graying hair, laughing 
with twinkling eyes and uplifted mustache into 
Janice’s face. 


244 The Mission of Janice Day 

‘‘ Shall we, then, play modern Robin Hoods to 
this so-beautiful sehorita in distress? ” he demanded. 

Who ees thees Rob’n ’Ood, mi general? asked 
another of his followers. “ A brave compadref 

You’ve said it,” ejaculated Gomez, in good 
American slang. “ Very famous.” 

‘‘What more than we can he do?” asked the 
lesser bandit. 

True. Your wisdom is of the ancients, Pietro. 
What say, hombrecitos? shall we lend assistance to 
the so-beautiful sehorita — the daughter of Sehor 
B-Day?” 

There seemed to be a growl of approval. To 
San Cristoval, mi general” said one. “ There may 
yet be pickings.” 

The leader turned immediately and with business- 
like directness to Carlitos. ‘‘ What has happened 
to the automobile ? ” he asked. 

“ Oh, Sehor Gomez ! ” stuttered the driver. 
“ She done bust.” 

And you can’t make on with her ? ” 

‘‘ No, sehor.” 

“ She’s more than cast a shoe, then ? ” laughed 
Dario Gomez. ‘‘ So we must tackle horses to her, 
eh ? " Get a horse ! ’ Horse power is surer than 
gasoline I have always believed.” 

'' By goodness, yes ! ” groaned Carlitos Ortez. 

Janice hastily climbed back beside the astounded 
Marty. He stared at her. 


The Situation Becomes Difficult 245 


‘‘ Cricky ! ’’ he whispered. '' Aren’t you just the 
greatest girl that ever was, Janice? Wait till I tell 
the folks at home about this ! ” 

Carlitos had a rope. He passed it around the 
entire body of the car, and straps and singletrees ap- 
peared for three horses. Evidently some of the 
bandits’ mounts had been seized while at work. 

Just as the three excited horses, their riders ply- 
ing the quirt, sprang forward to drag the stalled 
car, Carlitos uttered a startling yell. 

“ There is a third, mi general! '' he shouted to 
Gomez. The thief and a son-of-a-thief ! he haf 
not paid me mi dinero!” 

What’s that ? ” demanded Dario Gomez. 

Anothair passenger — by goodness, yes ! He 
have escaped ! ” and he pointed to the chaparral. 

What’s this?” 

“ I forget heem till this moment,” stammered 
Carlitos. ‘‘ He is likewise of los Americanos; but 
he is not a friend to these two,” and he gestured to 
Janice and Marty. ‘‘ He afraid when you appear, 
mi general. He run.” 

Ha ! ” ejaculated Gomez. ‘‘ Perhaps he has 
cause for fear. We will find him.” 

He gave an order and ten of his men separated 
from the rest and began to encircle the patch of 
chaparral. The car was started again and, being 
but a light load for three horses, they went forward 
along the road at a gallop. 


246 The Mission of Janice Day 

The bumping and jouncing Janice and Marty en- 
dured now was much worse than that which had 
gone before. The car under its own power was 
bad enough; but with the half-wild horses dragging 
it, the occupants of the tonneau thought surely it 
would be shaken to pieces. 

Carlitos clung to the steering wheel, yelling in- 
structions that were not heeded. These reckless 
vaqueros of the pampas (they were not Chihuahua 
men ; they did not pronounce the s, and were there- 
fore from the south) thought it rather good fun. 
But the rattle and banging of the automobile, like 
nothing so much as a tin-shop with a full crew 
working at high speed, urged the horses on and on. 

“ Believe me I ” Marty managed to shout into his 
cousin’s ear, “ if I ever get out of this alive I never 
want even to see an automobile again. I’m glad you 
sold yours, Janice.” 

They struck into a better and smoother road after 
a while, and the journey was not so difficult. Janice 
wondered what had become of Tom Hotchkiss, and 
spoke of him to Marty. 

“ I hope they catch him and make him work for 
them. They tell me that these people have slaves 
down here just as though Abraham Lincoln had 
never lived,” Marty declared. “ You heard what 
Carlitos said about his grandfather. 

“ As long as we can’t turn the fat chump over to 
the proper police, I hope he just gets his ! ” added the 


The Situation Becomes Difficult 247 


boy, with venom in his tone of voice. “ I hope the 
money he stole will never do him any good. But, 
poor dad! he’s cornin’ out of the little end of the 
horn, I’m afraid.” 

Janice, too, was troubled about Uncle Jason’s af- 
fairs. They had seemed on the point of helping him 
by Hotchkiss’ capture — and then had missed it. 

However, hope was growing momentarily in the 
girl’s heart that she was going to reach and rescue 
her own father. She had won over these wild men 
so easily to help her that it seemed there could 
really be nothing now to obstruct the way to the 
Alderdice Mine. They were already in the Com- 
panos District, they told her. 

Dario Gomez sometimes rode beside the car and 
shouted bits of information to them. It was ap- 
parent that the chief was well versed in English — 
had probably lived and been educated in the United 
States. He was, after all, an anomaly in the com- 
pany he was with. Janice wondered in what spirit 
he had become chief with such wild companions for 
his followers. 

The haze-capped mountains seemed much nearer 
now and the road was almost continually on a grade 
— either ascending or descending. At dusk they 
came in sight of several groups of houses. 

San Cristoval,” announced Dario Gomez. 
“ Until we learn how matters stand, yonder we may 


248 The Mission of Janice Day 

not drag your tin Leezie,” and he laughed. “ You 
have had a ride, eh ? ” 

I never want another like it,'’ growled Marty. 

“ But if I do not take them into the town, I get 
no pay,” wailed Carlitos, suddenly realizing his situ- 
ation. “ That fat homhre — ^he escape. And these 
must ride into San Cristoval in the tin Lizzie or I 
get no dinero. Don Abreguardo say it.” 

“ Ha ! Don Abreguardo is a shrewd homhre” said 
Gomez. 

“ Don't worry ! ” Marty exclaimed. “ We'll pay 
you, and we'll walk the rest of the way. Won't 
we, Janice ? ” 

“ Of course,” she agreed. “ I — I shall be glad 
to walk — if I can,” and she got stiffly out of the 
car. 

''Bueno! Now we depart,” said Gomez, laugh- 
ing. “We go seek my compadres and the fat 
homhre Carlitos tell me about. Adios! ” 

He wheeled his horse, waved his hand, and, with 
his troop clattering at his heels, rode swiftly away. 


CHAPTER XXV 


AN AMAZING MEETING 

Well/^ Marty observed, just as though he were 
awakening from a dream — and an unbelievable one 
at that — ‘‘ I s’pose we might's well toddle along into 
town. You're a wonder, Janice. You certainly 
pulled us out of one big mess — didn't she, Carlitos ? " 
The Mexican grinned, pocketing the money and 
the paper they had signed. “ The sehorita a fine 
la-dee, eh ? " he said. She make even the Sefior 
Gomez dance when she whistle — ^by goodness, yes ! " 
Janice could not call up much of a smile. She 
was anxious to get into San Cristoval, and she was 
so wearied by the long ride in the automobile that 
she could scarcely hobble along, clinging to Marty's 
arm. 

Where shall we look for lodgings in the town, 
Carlitos?" she asked. “You must know some 
hotel." 

“ The Golden Fan,” the man said promptly. “ It 
is as good as any. I leev you here to find horse. 
Adios, stnoritdi \ adios, sefior." 

The cousins went on wearily together. Even the 
249 


250 The Mission of Janice Day 

volatile Marty seemed lost in thought. Finally he 
said: 

‘‘ Well ! if they catch him ” 

‘‘ Who? ” Janice demanded. 

Tom Hotchkiss. If the outlaws catch him I 
hope they’ll put him somewhere where he’ll get 
nothing to eat but beans. Cricky, Janice! ain’t I 
hungry for real grub ! ” 

“ I want to rest — just rest,” moaned the girl. 

They reached the town after a while. It was 
then fully dark, but they easily found The Golden 
Fan. There was a flaring gasoline lamp before the 
door, over which was painted a huge yellow fan. 

A man in sombrero and high boots with spurs 
lounged in the doorway. He first spoke to them in 
the vernacular ; then : 

'' Madre di Dios! What do you here? Los 
Americanos — eh, yes ? ” 

‘‘ We’re not lost Americans,” replied Marty, mis- 
understanding. “ Just travelers.” 

" Si, sefior. Come to what you call ‘ see the 
sights,’ yes ? ” and the man’s grin was like that of 
a cat. He had yellow eyes, too, and a stiff, sparse 
mustache like a cat’s. 

We want a place to sleep and, first of all, some 
supper,” Marty said. ‘‘ Do you run this hotel ? ” 

The man turned his head and shouted over his 
shoulder : 

Maria!” 


An Amazing Meeting 251 

He added something in Spanish that the Ameri- 
cans did not catch, although they were now learning 
a bit of the vernacular. Almost immediately a 
wretched-looking half-breed woman, very dirty and 
unintelligent of feature, shuffled into view. 

She the keeper of this hotel,” said the yellow- 
eyed man, grinning again at Janice and Marty. 

The girl held back. These people were not like 
the Mexicans they had before met. She was intui- 
tively afraid of them. 

‘‘ You want bed ? You want eat ? ” demanded the 
woman gruffly. 

Yes,” said Marty. 

‘‘You got money?” 

“Of course,” the boy said loftily. 

But Janice was tugging at his sleeve, whispering: 

“ Perhaps we can go somewhere else. Some bet- 
ter place.” 

The man seemed to have preternaturally sharp 
ears. “ The Golden Fan ver’ good hotel, sehorita,” 
he said. “ Maria, she do for you.” 

“ Ugh ! she looks it,” muttered Marty. “ But I 
guess we’d better risk it, Janice.” 

“ Be careful,” breathed the girl when they were 
inside. “ Don’t show much money, dear.” 

“ I’m on ! ” whispered the boy in reply. He had 
some silver and produced an American dollar. 
“You see we have money,” he said aloud. 

The woman led them into a poorly lighted, almost 


252 The Mission of Janice Day 

empty room. There was a table and some chairs but 
not much other furniture and no ornaments save 
an old-fashioned wax flower piece under a glass shell 
on a shelf. Where that, once a cherished parlor 
ornament of the mid- Victorian era, could have 
come from down here in Mexico was a mystery. 

‘‘ Not enough,’’ said the half-breed woman, re- 
ferring to the dollar, her greedy eyes snapping. 

“ It’s two dollars Mex,” announced Marty with 
decision. 

“ ’Nuff for supper. ’Nother dol’ for bed,” de- 
clared Maria. 

Janice touched Marty’s hand. ‘‘ Do not argue,” 
she whispered. 

The man had followed them and lolled in the 
doorway of the room, listening and watching. It 
was not until then that Janice saw he wore boldly a 
pistol in a holster dangling from his belt. 

All right,” Marty was saying rather ungra- 
ciously. We’ll give you two dollars, American, 
for supper and a night’s lodging. Two rooms, mind. 
If you ask more we’ll go out and hunt up some 
other place to stop.” 

“ There ees no othair hotel but Maria’s, young 
senor,” said the man in the doorway, laughing. 

“We’ll go to see the mayor, then,” said Janice 
hastily. “ Don Abreguardo, of La Guarda, is our 
friend.” 

“ Huh ? ” grunted the woman, looking at the man 


An Amazing Meeting 253 

questioningly. He still laughed. “ The mayor of 
La Guarda is not known here, sehorita; and San 
Cristoval have no cacique 

'' What's that? " demanded Marty suspiciously. 

“ He iss shot in the battle — si, si! San Cristoval 
iss of late a battlefield." 

“Oh!" Janice murmured and sat down. Not 
alone was she very weary, but all strength seemed 
suddenly to leave her limbs. 

“ Been having hot times here, have you ? " asked 
Marty briskly. “Who’s ahead?" 

“ Oh, Marty ! " gasped his cousin. 

“ Who has won, senor ? " said the catlike man. 

“ Yes." 

“ Eet ees hard to say. First one then the other 
army enter San Cristoval. It iss said the Army of 
Deliverance is being driven back now into the hills. 
The government troops are between us and the 
mountains. But eet ees well to cry Viva Mejico to 
whomever the senor meets." 

“ Huh ! " said Marty. “ I’ve heard that ever since 
we crossed the Rio Grande." 

This was an entirely different hostelry from any 
they had entered since arriving at the Border. In- 
deed, Janice was very doubtful of their safety. The 
woman was greedy and ugly; the man seemed ripe 
for almost any crime. 

The latter’s presence in the doorway did not dis- 
turb Marty much ; but when the woman brought the 


254 The Mission of Janice Day 

tortillas and frijoles and some kind of fish stewed 
in oil with the hottest of hot peppers, Janice merely 
played with the food. Because of the baleful glance 
of the man’s yellow eyes her appetite was gone. 
Maria too watched the guests in a silence that 
seemed to bode evil. 

This town of San Cristoval, although much larger 
than La Guarda or La Gloria, was very different 
from either, it seemed. Not a sound came from the 
street. There was no music or dancing or the 
chattering of voices outside. It was as though 
San Cristoval had been smitten with a plague. 

‘‘ Cricky ! I bet these beans have got on your 
nerves, too, Janice,” said Marty, seeing her fork 
idle. 

She giggled faintly at that. “ I never heard that 
beans troubled one’s nerves,” she said. ‘‘ It’s these 
people — staring at us so ! ” 

“Yep. Eat-’em-up-Jack there in the doorway 
would almost turn your stomach,” agreed Marty 
cheerfully. “ And a bath would sure kill Maria.” 

The boy was good-naturedly oblivious of the 
sinister manner of the two Mexicans — or appeared 
to be; but Janice grew more and more troubled as 
time passed, and started at every movement Maria 
or the man made. 

“ Say, you,” Marty asked while he was still eat- 
ing, addressing the man, “ is the railroad running 
to the mines yet ? ” 


An Amazing Meeting 255 

“ Which mine, senor ? ” returned the yellow'-eyed 
man. 

“ A mine called the Alderdice is the one we want 
to go to.'' 

Maria uttered a shrill exclamation and the man 
dropped his cigarette and put his foot upon it in- 
voluntarily. 

“ What ees thees about the Alderdice Mine ? " he 
said softly. ** Why do you weesh to go there ? ” 

‘‘ Just for instance," returned Marty coolly. 
‘‘ You are not answering my question — and I asked 
first." 

“ No. The rails are torn up just outside the city," 
said the man with insistence. “ Now answer me, 
young senor." 

“ That's what we've come down here into Mexico 
for," Marty told him calmly. “To visit the Aider- 
dice Mine. Do you know the man who runs it? " 

“ Senor B-Day ! " gasped Maria, who seemed to 
be much moved. She had come closer to the table 
and was staring at Janice earnestly. The girl shrank 
from her, but Marty was still looking at the man 
lounging in the doorway. 

“ Yes. Broxton Day. He's the man," the boy 
said with admirable carelessness of manner. “ Is 
he all right? " 

“ Who are you, senor? " asked the man abruptly. 

“ I'm a feller that wants to see this Mr. Day," 
said Marty, grinning. 


256 


The Mission of Janice Day 

And the sehorita ! the senorita ! ’’ shrilled Maria. 
“ I tell you, Juan, thees ees a strange t’ing! ” She 
went on in Spanish speaking eagerly to the man. 

“ Do you not know Sehor B-Day was shot ? ** 
demanded the man, Juan, still addressing Marty. 

‘‘ Yes! Yes! cried Janice, clasping and unclasps 
ing her hands. “ Is he seriously hurt ? Oh ! tell 
me. 

Maria came closer to her. After all the ragged 
creature had not such a sinister face. It was her 
Yaqui blood that made her look so forbidding. 

“ Senorita ! sehorita ! ” she murmured, “ you lofe 
that Sehor B-Day, do you not ? ” 

“ He is my father ! ” burst out Janice desperately. 
‘' Tell me about him. Is he badly hurt? How can 
we get to him ? Oh ! I wish we might go to-night ! ’’ 

“ Madre di Dios! ejaculated the woman, looking 
at the man again. “ I knew eet, Juan.” 

“ Well ! tell it to us'" growled Marty. 

“ She say you look like Sehor B-Day,” said the 
man, grinning. “ We know heem alia right. I 
work' for him and so did Maria. He good-a man. 
One gran homhre — si, si!" 

“ But how badly is he hurt ? ” cried the girl. 
“ Tell me.” 

“ He been shot in the shoulder and in the right 
arm,” said Juan, pointing. “ He alia right — come 
through safe — sure ! ” 

“ But we have not heard a word from him ” 


An Amazing Meeting 257 

“ He no can write. And at first, and alia time 
now, the bandits keep him shut up there at the 
mine. It ees so. Now the Senor General De Soto 
Palo come. He attack the bandits. They soon be 
driven into the mountains away from the mines and 
we — we go back to work again for Senor B-Day. 
Sure.’’ 

The relief Janice felt was all but overpowering. 
She could not speak again for a minute ; but Marty 
demanded : 

“ Do you mean to say we can go up there to the 
Alderdice Mine to-morrow morning?” 

If Senor General De Soto Palo permits — si, si!” 
said Juan, grinning again. “ But no ride on rail- 
road I tell you, senor.” 

‘‘ Will you go with us ? ” the boy asked. 

“ As far as may be,” said the man with a shrug 
of his shoulders. 

‘‘ For how much? ” demanded Marty bluntly. 

For notting,” declared Juan. ‘‘Your bed not- 
ting. Your food notting. Friends of the good 
Senor B-Day shall be treat’ as friends by us — yes, 
huh?” 

Maria was patting Janice’s hand softly and she 
nodded acquiescence. Janice’s eyes had overflowed. 
Marty choked up, and said gruffly : 

“ Hi tunket ! don’t that beat all ? It pays to make 
people like you same as Uncle Brocky does. And 
you do it, too, Janice. Dad says : ‘ Soft words but- 


258 The Mission of Janice Day 

ter no parsnips but I dunno. I have an idea it 
pays pretty good interest to make friends wherever 
and whenever you can.” 

Whatever might have been the natural character 
of Juan and Maria, their attitude towards the cousins 
changed magically. The half-breed woman could 
not do enough for the twain, and Juan of the yel- 
low eyes became suddenly respectful if not sub- 
servient. 

The fact remained that these Mexicans did not 
love los Americanos, but they distinguished friends. 

The tavern was a poor place; but the best in it 
was at the disposal of Janice and Marty. And the 
girl, at least, went to bed with confidence in the 
future. 

Her father might be detained— hived up as it 
were — at the mine; but he was not seriously hurt 
and she might reach him soon. 

Juan was evidently the poorest of peons. All he 
could obtain in the morning was a burro for the girl 
to ride. He said Marty must walk the fourteen 
miles to the mine as he did. 

“ Don’t worry about me. I’m glad to walk 
after riding two days in that tin Lizzie,” declared 
the boy. 

They set forth early. Only a few curious and 
silent people watched them go. The town seemed 
more than half deserted. 

“Those men who did not join the rebels,” ex- 


An Amazing Meeting 259 

plained Juan, “ haf run from the troops of the Sehor 
General De Soto Palo. Oh, yes! They will come 
back — and go to work again later/’ 

They set forth along the branch railroad, on which 
the ore was brought down from the mines to the 
stamp mills. In the yards box cars and gondolas 
were overturned and half burned; rails were torn 
up; switch shanties demolished. 

We Mexicans,” said Juan, grinning, we do not 
lofe the railroad, no ! Before the railroad come our 
country was happier. Viva Mejico! ” 

Hi tunket ! ” muttered Marty. That ^ Viva 
Mejico!' business covers a multitude of sins — like 
this here charity they tell about. If you sing out 
that battle cry down here you can do ’most anything 
you want — and get away with it!” 

They went on slowly, for no amount of prodding 
would make the burro go faster than a funeral 
march. On all sides they saw marks of the fighting 
which had followed the occupation of San Cristoval 
by the government troops. 

Juan explained that General Palo had waited for 
reinforcements at first; but finally a part of the 
rebel army come over to him and fought against 
their former friends under the standard of the gov- 
ernment ; so he was now pushing on steadily, driving 
the other rebels before him. 

‘‘ Why did they come over to the government side 
if they believe in la patriaf ” asked Marty curiously. 


260 The Mission of Janice Day 

For twenty centavos a day more, senor,^’ said 
Juan placidly. 

“What’s that?” ejaculated the boy. “D’you 
mean they got their wages raised ? ” 

“ Why, senor, a man must leev,” declared Juan 
mildly. “ We get from thirty to feefty cents a day 
working in the mines, on the roads, in the forest — 
oh, yes! Senor B-Day pay the highest wages of 
anybody — sure. But to fight — ah ! that is different, 
eh? One general give us seventy-fi’ cents a day — 
good! But another offer us one dollair — ’Merican. 
By goodness, yes! We fight for heem. Any boy 
that beeg enough to carry gun, he can get twice as 
much for fighting as he can for othair work. Si, si, 
senor.” 

“Oh, cricky! ^ Viva Mejico!'*' murmured 
Marty. 

It was just then that they turned a curve in the 
right of way and beheld a train standing on the 
track. At least, there were a locomotive and two 
cars. 

They had not seen a human being since leaving 
the outskirts of the town ; but here were both men 
and horses. 

The men were armed; some of them were gayly 
uniformed. A young fellow in tattered khaki 
spurred his mount immediately toward Janice Day 
and her companions. 

“ What want you here, homhresf ” he demanded 


An Amazing Meeting 261 

in Spanish, staring at Janice. ‘‘ This is the head- 
quarters of General De Soto Palo.’’ 

Juan was dumb, and before Marty could speak 
Janice put the question: 

“ Is it possible for us to get through to the Alder- 
dice Mine, senor ? ” 

Certainly not ! ” was the reply in good English. 

Our troops have not driven out the dregs of the 
rebel army as yet.” 

“ May we speak with the general ? ” the girl 
pursued faintly. 

“ Certainly not ! ” the fellow repeated. ‘‘ He has 
no time to spend with vagabond Americanos.'^ 

She’s Senor B-Day’s daughter,” broke in Marty, 
thinking the statement might do some good. 

Ha ! ” ejaculated the young officer much to their 
surprise. ‘‘ She we have expected. Consider your- 
self under ar-r-rest. March on ! ” 

He waved his hand grandly toward the nearest 
car. Already Janice had seen that it was a much 
battered Pullman coach. But now the officer’s 
declaration left Janice unable to appreciate much 
else but the fact that she had been expected and was 
a prisoner of the government forces! 

Juan, immobile of countenance, prodded on the 
burro. Marty, too, was speechless. They came 
near to the observation platform of the Pullman 
coach. 

Suddenly the door opened and there stepped into 


262 The Mission of Janice Day 

the sunshine the magnificent figure of a woman in 
Mexican dress — short skirt, low cut bodice, with a 
veil over her wonderfully dressed hair. She looked 
down upon the approaching cavalcade with parted 
lips. 

‘‘ Madam ! ” ejaculated Janice Day, and then could 
say no more. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


AT LAST 

Marty Day was quite as amazed as his cousin 
at this meeting, for he, too, recognized the hand- 
some black-eyed woman on the observation platform 
of the Pullman coach. He found his tongue first. 

What do you know about that ? ’’ he murmured. 

Just like a movie, ain’t it? She is that woman you 
were traveling with, Janice — the one I thought tried 
to swipe your money. And maybe she did try to at 
that ! ” 

“ Hush ! ” begged his cousin. 

Eet ees the Sehora General De Soto Palo,” 
hissed Juan. ‘‘ She a gre’t la-dee — ^huh ? ” 

For a full minute the black-eyed woman stared at 
Janice and the latter wondered if the Sehora General 
Palo would admit their acquaintanceship. They 
had been so “ goot friends” on the train; would 
the sehora acknowledge it now? 

“ Ach ! ” exclaimed the woman, her rather stern 
countenance blossoming into a smile. “ You are a 
wonderful girl, my dear — soh! You have made 
your way here — through this so-strange country and 
with all against you. Have you saved your money 


264 The Mission of Janice Day 

from robbery, too ? and her black eyes began to 
twinkle. 

Oh, Madam ! ” murmured Janice. 

“ Our money’s safe all right all right,” put in 
Marty. 

Madam ignored him. Come up here, my dear,” 
she commanded in her full contralto voice, still smil- 
ing at the American girl. 

Janice tumbled off the burro and hastily mounted 
the steps to the platform. The young officer who 
had led them here, and others of his ilk, stared from 
a distance and twirled their mustachios. Marty 
grinned at Juan. 

‘‘I guess we got a friend at court, eh, Juan?” 
he said in a whisper. “ It takes our Janice to get 
us out of scrapes — believe me 1 ” 

“ Of a verity, yes! ” agreed Juan. 

The black-eyed woman seized Janice Day in a 
warfn embrace the moment the girl came near. 

“ Oh, Madam ! ” cried the latter. “ I hope I did 
not offend you. You left so abruptly back there at 
Sweetwater ” 

‘‘ Ach ! it ees nothing,” said the woman. “ I was 
hurt — for the moment. You did not trust me.” 

And you were continually warning me to trust 
nobody,” interposed Janice, flushing. 

‘‘ It is true 1 ” cried the woman, patting her cheek. 
** I made you so fear for r-robbers that you fear 
poor me, eh? But that is past. I was sorry, later. 


i 


At Last 


265 


when I learn’ just where my hoosban’ is that I did 
not confide more in you and you in me, my dear.” 

Oh ! And you are really the wife of this general 
who commands here?” Janice exclaimed. ‘'How 
wonderful I ” 

“ Yes. General Palo has long been exile from his 
land. Soh ! But now he is in favor with the gov- 
ernment at Mexico City,” explained Madam. “ Yes ! 
it was at his request I cut short my season in New 
York an’ join him. He hope to be made governor 
of this deestrict when the campaign is over. He 
hope soon to settle all controversies and whip these 
rebel dogs back into the hills and keep them 
there.” 

“ But, Madam, you are not Mexican ! ” cried 
Janice. 

“ Not by birth — no, my dear. Yet I am intensely 
patriotic for my hoosban’s country — Viva Mejico! ” 

Janice sighed. She, like Marty, began to wonder 
at the universal cry for la patria from those of such 
conflicting opinions. 

“ No,” said Madam. They were now sitting in 
a compartment of the Pullman that was evidently 
Madam’s boudoir. “ I am of blood Bohemian — 
with a strain of the greatest nation of all time,” and 
she smiled. 

“ The Hebrew?” 

“ But yes. I have lived everywhere — on both 
continents,” with a sweeping gesture. “ Under my 


266 The Mission of Janice Day 

own name — first made known to the world in 
Vienna — I sing. I am of the opera.” 

‘'Oh, Madam! I guessed that,” Janice declared 
with clasped hands. 

“ Yes? Well, it iss soh,” said the lady sibilantly. 
“ I hear in New York where I am singing at the 
Metropolitan that my hoosban’ is advance. I pack 
and start for Mexico immediate. Contr-r-racts are 
nothing at such time, yes ? I hasten across the con- 
tinent to greet and applaud him. After I join him 
at San Cristoval I hear of things, and remember 
things that you say, my dear, that make me to under- 
stand you must be bound for this same place, too. 
It is sad you should not have come wit’ me.” 

“My father!” gasped Janice. “Do you know 
if he is better ? ” 

“ I know that he is as yet holding out against 
the rebels,” Madam said. “ He, with a few des- 
perate compadres, are guarding his mine buildings, 
ye^-s ! ” 

“ Then he is not seriously wounded ? ” cried the 
girl gladly. 

“ I believe not. We get some information to 
and from the mine. Sehor General De Soto Palo 
declare he will shell the rebels into the hills to-day, 
my dear. You have come in season.” 

Marty, meanwhile, sat comfortably on the car 
steps in the shade and said to Juan : 

“ I guess you can beat it back to town, old man, 


At Last 


267 


if you want to. I have a hunch that, in spite of that 
gun you swing, and your look like a picture of a 
Spanish pirate I saw once, you ain’t no fighting man ; 
are you ? ” 

‘‘ As the senor says,” admitted Juan with a tooth- 
ful grin and his yellow eyes squinting, “I am a 
man of peace — by goodness, yes ! ” 

All right. Here’s a dollar — you’re welcome to 
it. You’re the only Mexican I’ve seen that didn’t 
claim to be a fire-eater,” and Marty chuckled. ‘‘ You 
see, Janice knows the commander’s lady and I fancy 
it’s a cinch for us to reach Uncle Brocky now. 
Da, da, Juan.” 

'' Adios, senor,” responded the man and kicked 
the burro to start that peacefully grazing animal 
back along the railroad bed. 

Suddenly the distant sound of firing disturbed the 
placidity of the scene about the ‘‘ headquarters.” 
The little group of officers began to show excite- 
ment. 

Sounds like a lot o’ ginger-beer corks popping,” 
thought Marty. ‘‘ Must be something doing.” He 
immediately grew eager himself. 

When a little pudgy man in a red and green uni- 
form, a plume in his hat, and yellow gauntlets, came 
from the forward car and mounted a horse held for 
him obsequiously, the boy knew he was viewing 
General De Soto Palo in all his dignity and glory. 
Truly it was the magnificent Madam’s fate to be 


268 The Mission of Janice Day 

admired by the so-leetle men — ^her husband not 
excepted. 

“ Hi tunket ! Td like to go with 'em,” muttered 
Marty, as the cavalcade of officers rode swiftly 
away. But I s'pose I got to stay on the job and 
guard Janice. Sometimes girls are certainly a 
nuisance.” 

There was a jar throughout the short train. The 
couplings tightened. With a squeal of escaping 
steam the locomotive forged ahead, dragging the 
general’s headquarters car and Madam’s living car 
with it. 

Janice ran to the door. “ Oh, Marty ! ” she cried. 
“ Are you all right ? ” 

Right as rain,” he assured her. 

“ We are going up nearer the battle-line. Oh, 
Marty ! think of it ! I may see daddy to-day ! ” 

‘‘ Great ! ” he responded. ‘‘ I hope the fight ain’t 
all over when we get there.” 

They were yet ten miles from the Alderdice Mine 
and the train was more than an hour pulling that 
distance. They stopped often; and when the train 
did move it was at a snail’s pace. 

All the time the machine guns rattled like shaking 
pebbles in a cannister, the rifles popped and the shells 
exploded resonantly. Now and then they descried 
smoke above the tree tops. Occasionally they passed 
burning buildings. 

And then appeared — ^more hateful sight than all 


At Last 


269 


else — the dead body of a man lying beside the 
railroad track, face down, the back of his head all 
gory. 

He was a little man. His hand still grasped a 
brown rifle almost as tall as himself. 

The laboring train halted directly beside the dead 
man. Marty dropped down from the rear step and 
went to the corpse. He turned it over with curiosity. 

And then suddenly there shot through the boy 
from the North a feeling of such nausea and horror 
that he was destined ever to remember it. 

This was not a man that lay here. It was a boy — 
a little, yellow-faced, barefooted fellow not as old 
as Marty himself, with staring eyes which already 
the ants had found — and a queer, twisted little 
smile upon the lips behind which the white teeth 
gleamed. 

Marty stumbled blindly back to the car, sobbing. 
‘‘ He’s — he’s laughing,” he stammered to Janice. ‘‘ I 
— I wonder if that’s ’cause he’s found out now how 
foolish it all is ? ” 

They saw the end of the battle; by then it was 
mid-afternoon. A stream of wounded had been 
carried past the train on stretchers — back to a little 
temporary hospital somewhere in the woods out of 
sight of the belligerents. For the half-wild Indians 
from the hills respect no Red Cross. 

They saw the last scattering, ragged horde limp 
away from the mesa on which were the buildings of 


270 The Mission of Janice Day 

the Alderdice Mining Company, driven to cover by 
the cheering troops of Sehor General De Soto Palo. 

Here for some time the rebels had besieged the 
corrugated iron huts of the mining company, in 
which a handful of men held out tenaciously. 

The lack of machine guns on the part of the Mexi- 
can rebels had made this defense of the mining 
property possible. The bursting shells from the 
heavier guns of the government forces had quite 
thrown them into panic. 

The men guarding the mining property had finally 
retreated into a cellar under one of the store-sheds. 
The ore-raising machinery had been dismantled and 
hidden in the mine, and little of real value belonging 
to the mining company had been destroyed. 

Now these guards appeared — not more than two 
dozen of them ; powder-stained and unwashed, but a 
grim group prepared to keep up the fight if neces- 
sary. 

The same young aide-de-camp who had “ cap- 
tured Janice and Marty when they approached 
the headquarters of the general in command, now 
came to the Madam and her guests. 

“If the senor and senorita wish to go forward, 
all is now quiet,” he announced, bowing low before 
Janice and the Madam. “ I will do myself the 
honor to conduct them to Senor B-Day. He is in the 
cellar.” 

“ The cellar ! ” gasped the girl. 


At Last 271 

‘‘ With other wounded. Quite safe, I assure the 
senorita,” added the aide-de-camp hastily. 

‘‘ Oh ! let us hurry ! ” cried the eager girl. 

Her hasty feet took her in advance of the others. 
She reached the group of shacks where the window- 
lights were blown out and much wreckage strewed 
the ground. Before an open cellarway stood a 
ragged and barefooted soldier. He presented arms 
most grotesquely as the party came near. 

“ My father — Sehor B-Day? Janice asked. 

At the sound of her voice a cry answered from 
within and a gaunt figure staggered up the stone 
steps into the sunlight. 

Janice ! My Janice ! Can it be possible ? cried 
the man, gazing in wonder at the girl. ‘‘Janice! ’’ 

“ Daddy ! Oh, Daddy ! she screamed, and ran 
toward him, her arms outstretched, her face all 
aglow. 

“Hey, Janice!’' called Marty right behind her. 
“ Don’t forget his arm’s in a sling.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


MUCH TO TALK ABOUT 

More than three years and a half! Can you 
imagine what such separation means to two people 
who love each other? 

We read much, and hear much, about the strength 
of mother-love/’ It is the most holy expression of 
the Creative Instinct — none doubt it. 

Yet there is an emotion even deeper and wider 
than the affection of the mother for the child she 
has borne. Because through all these eras of ad- 
vancing civilization man, the father, has shouldered 
the responsibility of caring for and protecting both 
the mother and the child. 

Not enough thought is given to this. Father-love 
is often greater, more self-sacrificing, more noble 
than that given the offspring by the maternal parent. 
In this the mother follows instinct ; she shares it with 
the female of all species. 

When the child must depend upon the father for 
all — deprived of maternal parentage as was this 
girl, Janice Day — there is a bond between father 
and child that no other mortal tie can equal. 

Never had this man gone to his couch at night 
272 


Much to Talk About 


273 


without a thought of the daughter he had left in 
the North — growing from a child to womanhood out 
of his sight. Nor had Janice Day with all her mani- 
fold interests forgotten for one single day her father 
and his lonely existence in Mexico. 

Janice went into her father’s arms and clung to 
him without speech — not intelligible speech at least. 
Yet there were words wrenched from both of them 
— little intimate words of passionate endearment 
like nothing Marty Day had ever heard before. 
Marty, steeled by the New England belief that the 
giving away to emotion, especially that of affection, 
was almost indecent, actually blushed for his rela- 
tives. Finally he drawled : 

Hi tunket ! Give a feller a chance, will you, 
Janice? What d’you think, that I came clear down 
into Mexico here to play a dummy hand ? ” 

You’re Marty ! ” cried Mr. Day, putting out his 
hand to his nephew. 

“ Surest thing you know,” agreed Marty. “ Dad 
and ma send their best regards.” 

At that Janice went off into a gale of laughter that 
was almost hysterical. Her cousin gazed upon her 
in mild surprise. 

“ Why, Janice! ” he said. “ You know they are 
always hounding me about my manners. What’s 
wrong with that? ” 

Both father and daughter laughed at this and 
Marty grinned slowly. Anyway, matters had got 


274 The Mission of Janice Day 

altogether too serious for the boy and he wanted 
somebody to laugh so that he could successfully gulp 
down his own deeper emotion. 

The Madam came forward. She had to be in- 
troduced, and the tall, haggard man with his arm in 
a sling and his shoulder swathed in bandages very 
plainly impressed favorably the wife of Senor Gen- 
eral De Soto Palo. 

Ach, my dear ! ” she confided to Janice later, 
“ he is such a romantic-looking man ! Now, to tell 
you the truth, as much as I adore the general, me, I 
could wish him the more distingue looking — ees eet 
not? ” 

Of course daddy was a splendid-looking man! 
Thin and haggard as he was, Janice thought nobody 
as interesting in appearance as daddy — not even 
Nelson ! 

She left it to Marty to relate in particular what 
had happened to them since they had left Polktown. 
And it lost nothing in the telling — trust Marty 1 

“ It looks to me as though you two have had quite 
an adventurous career,” Mr. Broxton Day said with 
twinkling eyes. 

He had sat down in the sun, for he was still very 
weak. His own brief tale, Marty thought, savored 
of “ the real thing.” 

Mr. Day had been treacherously attacked and shot, 
and had lain unattended for twenty-four hours at 
the mouth of the main shaft of the mine. He had 


Much to Talk About 


275 


lost much blood at this time and was now scarcely 
able to travel. Yet during all the time the rebels 
had hemmed them in he had planned the defense of 
the mine buildings and held his handful of guards 
to their task. 

“ I can't put you up decently, Janice," he said. 

You see, they've wrecked my quarters," and he 
gestured toward the building that had served him as 
office and living rooms before the battle. 

“ Oh, but. Daddy, we’re not going to stay! " she 
cried. I want to take you away from here just as 
soon as you can go. Do you suppose you could 
travel in Madam's car ? " 

Her father looked ruefully about at the havoc 
wrought by the enemy. 

“ Well," he sighed. It will take months, I sup- 
pose, to put things to rights again. And this will be 
the third time we have had to do it. I suppose my 
head foreman could do most of it alone " 

“Why!" cried Janice, “he'll just have to! 
Daddy, you're going home with me to Polktown to 
stay till you are well and strong again. I wish we 
could start now." 

Had Mr. Day suspected what the next few hours 
would bring forth they would have started im- 
mediately for San Cristoval — even had they walked. 
General Palo's victory, however, seemed so com- 
plete that the Americans did not suspect any menace 
of peril from a new quarter. 


276 The Mission of Janice Day 

They took dinner with the general and ‘‘ Madam,” 
as Janice continued to call the woman, in the Pull- 
man car that had been made over into a more or 
less luxurious “ home ” for the commander and his 
wife. There was a kitchen and a cook in it; and to 
Marty’s unfeigned delight there were no beans on 
the bill-of-fare. 

“ Hi tunket ! ” he exploded when they came away 
from the Pullman coach to take possession of one of 
the sheds that Mr. Day’s men had made habitable 
for the time being. I don’t know but these 
greasers would be more’n half human if they’d live 
on something besides frijoles. That little general is 
a nice little feller.” 

Easy, nephew,” advised his uncle, much amused 
after all by the boy’s nonchalance and assumption of 
maturity. “ Say nothing or do nothing to belittle a 
Mexican’s dignity. They have a saying in their own 
tongue that means, ‘ If thou lose thy dignity thou 
hast lost that which thou wilt nevor find again.’ 

“ The secret of half the trouble we Americans 
have in Mexico is in our failure to acknowledge this 
national trait. The poorest and most miserable peon 
often has in his heart a pride equal to that of a newly- 
made millionaire,” and Mr. Broxton Day laughed. 

“ If you treat them cavalierly and as though they 
were beneath you, they may laugh. They are humble 
enough to their masters; ages of oppression have 
taught them sycophancy. But in their hearts is 


Much to Talk About 


277 


bitter hate — and it flames out in these uprisings. 
Then they revenge themselves and, being profoundly 
ignorant, they seek that revenge from innocent and 
guilty alike.’’ 

This could not be said to interest Marty greatly. 
As soon as they were in the house he sought the 
couch prepared for him. But Janice and her father 
sat talking for half the night. 

There was much for them to talk about. Until 
recently, of course, their letters to each other had 
fully and freely related personal happenings; but 
there were many intimate affairs to be discussed by 
Broxton Day and his grown-up daughter. For so 
she seemed to him. His little Janice had blossomed 
into womanhood. Yet she had not grown away 
from him; she was nearer and dearer. 

“ You can understand things now that you might 
not have appreciated three years or so ago,” said her 
father. “ Oh ! I admit it was somewhat of a shock 
to me when I first saw you to-day — you are so tall 
and so much the woman, my dear. Your photo- 
graphs haven’t done you justice. I see you are quite 
the grown woman. Yet you had to run away to 
escape Jason’s opposition to your plans? Good 
soul ! ” and he chuckled. 

She laughed, then sighed. ‘‘ Yes. I could not 
bear actually to defy him.” 

‘"Ah! And this young man you’ve told me so 
much about in your letters? What about Nelson? ” 


278 The Mission of Janice Day 

her father asked, scrutinizing her countenance 
keenly. 

Janice could not altogether hide her feeling that, 
somehow. Nelson had failed her. The loyal girl 
found herself in the position of an apologist. She 
could not really explain why he had not come with 
her to Mexico. 

He — ^he did not believe I meant to come,’’ she 
confessed. 

You told him? ” asked her father. 

''Yes. I told him I should.” 

" My dear,” said Mr. Day thoughtfully, " the 
young man cannot know you very well, after 
all.” 

Janice sighed. " I thought he did,” she observed. 
"I’ve been so busy — so anxious — about you and 
all, Daddy — that I have not thought much about 
Nelson until now. I realize it would have been very 
difficult — indeed impossible — for him to have left 
his school in the middle of the term to come with 
me. But he did not believe I meant what I said. 
That — that is where it hurts. Daddy.” 

" Well ! well ! ” murmured Broxton Day. 
" You’re not like other girls, Janice. I can see that. 
And I imagine, for that very reason, you have picked 
out a young man for yourself that is quite your op- 
posite. I have an idea Nelson Haley is a very com- 
mon type of youth,” and his eyes twinkled. 

"Oh, but he isn’t. Daddy! Not at all!” she 


Much to Talk About 279 

cried, quick to defend. “ He is quite remarkable. 
Why — listen ’’ 

And then there poured out of the girl’s heart all 
the story of her acquaintanceship with Nelson from 
the first time she had met him with his motorcycle 
on the old lower Middletown road. 

Did Mr. Broxton Day listen patiently? Imagine 
it ! He was hearing from the lips of this lovely girl- 
woman, whom he had seen last as a child, all the 
tale of her romance; the sweetest, most endearing 
tale a daughter can possibly narrate to a sym- 
pathetic and understanding father. He saw, too, 
with her eyes those better qualities of the young 
schoolmaster that did not, perhaps, appear on the 
surface — the deeper moods and passions of his being 
that responded to the spur of the girl’s own char- 
acter. Broxton Day realized that Janice’s influence 
must mean much to Nelson Haley; yet that the 
young man had in him that which made it quite 
worth while for Janice to hold him in the strong 
regard she did. 

They talked of other matters that night, too — 
these two long separated comrades. Uncle Jason’s 
difficulties came in for their share of attention. Mr. 
Day now for the first time learned of Jason Day’s 
trouble, for Janice’s letter telling about it had failed 
to reach the Alderdice Mine. 

In his present crippled state Broxton Day was 
quite willing to go back to Polktown with his daugh- 


280 The Mission of Janice Day 

ter for the winter. And for his brother's sake he 
would have gone in any case. 

During his working of the mine since coming to 
Mexico, Broxton Day had accumulated considerable 
money which he had immediately re-invested in 
securities in the North. 

‘‘ No more carrying of all the eggs in one basket, 
my dear,’" he said to Janice. “ I have enough else- 
where to help Jase out. So don’t worry about that 
any more.” 

They might have talked all night; only Janice 
knew her father, in his present weakened state, 
should have rest. She insisted that he roll up in his 
blanket, as Marty had done hours before. When 
his regular breathing assured her Mr. Day was 
asleep, the girl stole to his side and tucked the 
blanket about his shoulders with maternal care. 

“ Dear Daddy ! ” she whispered, stooping to press 
her soft lips to his wind-beaten cheek. 

As she did so a sound outside startled her. Then 
came a cry and several rifle shots, followed by the 
clatter of arms and the quick, staccato orders of the 
officers calling the men to ‘‘ fall in.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


TOM HOTCHKISS REAPPEARS 

Janice went quickly to the door, opened it, and 
stepped out. Already the night was old. The foot- 
steps of Dawn were on the eastern hills. On the 
mesa, however, the encroaching forest made the 
shadows hlack. She could barely see the ‘‘head- 
quarters ” train of General Palo. 

A man stumbled by and Janice caught at his arm. 
It was one of her father's men who had remained to 
guard the mine. 

“ What is it? What has happened? " she asked, 
without betraying all the fear she felt. 

She knew that more than half of the government 
troops had followed the retreating rebels into the 
hills and had not returned to the military base. The 
present confusion of the soldiers that remained por- 
tended something desperate she knew. 

“ A night attack ? " she asked. 

“ It may be, sehorita,” whispered the man. “ A 
person has just been brought in — captured by our 
pickets." 

“ Oh!" 

“ An Americano y sehorita. He say Dario Gomez, 
281 


282 The Mission of Janice Day 

that bandit unhung, sehorita, is about to attack. He 
has gathered a gre’t force and will attack General 
De Soto Palo. Si! si! '' 

“ Dario Gomez ? ” repeated Janice. Why, I 

Who is this American who has been captured ? 

‘‘ A deserter. A prisoner. I know not. Quien 

saber 

But what does he look like? ” insisted Janice. 

Oh, sehorita ! He is a fat man and wears a 
red vest across his stomach — so,” and the man 
gestured. 

‘' Tom Hotchkiss! ” murmured Janice. 

“ I come back to warn Sehor B-Day if there be 
need,” promised the guard and was gone. 

Janice heard a horse charging past her from 
the direction of the general’s car. In the dim light 
she thought she recognized the young aide-de-camp 
who had been so much in evidence the day before. 
He rode off into the north, away from the mine, and 
Janice believed he had gone to recall that part of 
the government troops now absent. 

Did General Palo consider the promised attack of 
the banditti serious? When Janice had been in 
Dario Gomez’s company he had had but forty fol- 
lowers ! 

She re-entered the shed and closed the door. Her 
father and Marty were sleeping quietly. Should she 
arouse them? 

The girl was already becoming used to war’s 


283 


Tom Hotchkiss Reappears 

alarms. She determined to watch alone. By no 
possibility could she have closed her eyes now in 
slumber. 

While her father and Marty slept peacefully, 
Janice Day sat by a dim and rather smoky lantern 
and watched. Confused sounds of marching and 
countermarching soldiery reached her ears ; but 
from a distance. 

Suddenly the uproar increased — then more rifle 
shots in the distance. Her father roused up, half 
asleep yet. 

‘‘ What’s that ? ” he demanded. 

A sharp rap came upon the door. Janice arose 
hastily. 

Lie down, father,” she said reassuringly. I 
will go.” 

“ The Senor General De Soto Palo order you all 
to the train. We make stand there, sefiorita,” said 
the man who had knocked. ‘‘ The bandits are at 
hand.” 

‘‘ What’s that ? ” demanded Mr. Day again, wide 
awake. 

Marty rolled off his couch and appeared in the 
light of the smoky lantern, the snub-nosed revolver 
in his hand. ‘‘ Hey ! I’m in this ! ” he croaked, but 
half awake. “ What’s doing? ” 

Swiftly Janice told them what little she had 
learned while she crammed things into her bag. The 
man at the door urged haste. 


284 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ That Gomez — he is near,” sputtered the mes- 
senger. 

Why, we know that feller,” Marty drawled. 

I don’t think he’d do anything to us, would he, 
Janice?” 

Never trust appearances with these Mexican 
banditti,” said Mr. Day gravely. Tve shared the 
contents of his tobacco pouch with one and then 
had him try to cut my throat the next day. They 
are light-hearted, light-fingered and — lightest of all 
in their morals. I wonder that you two got away 
from Gomez as you did.” 

** And Tom Hotchkiss got away from him, too, 
did he ? ” growled Marty. “ Well, that’s too bad.” 

“ Come, senor ! ” urged the messenger in the 
doorway. 

They hurried to the headquarters car. It was 
growing lighter in the east. The rifle fire on the 
southern edge of the mesa was becoming sharper. 
General De Soto Palo had not led his troops in 
person against the attack of the banditti. Indeed, 
it was evident that he had been aroused from his 
peaceful slumbers at the beginning of the excite- 
ment; even now he had not removed his nightcap. 
He was not half so fierce-appearing in this head- 
gear as he had been in his plumed hat. 

But Tom Hotchkiss, cowering in a corner, seemed 
to think that the general was quite fierce enough. 

You want to remember Pm an American,” he 


Tom Hotchkiss Reappears 285 

was saying whiningly. “ Something’s got to be done 
for me. I can’t be treated this way, you know.” 

“ Sehor B-Day ! ” exploded the little general. 
‘‘ Do you know this man? ” 

“ Day!” 

Tom Hotchkiss almost shrieked it and would have 
sprung forward to peer into Mr. Broxton Day’s face 
had not two of the barefooted soldiers held him 
back by the ungentle means of their bayonets. 

.‘‘Yes. It is Thomas Hotchkiss,” Mr. Day said,, 
eyeing the fat man without favor. 

“You’re Brocky Day!” exclaimed the prisoner 
with sudden relief. “ Well, you tell these fel- 
lers ” 

The general raised his hand for silence. The 
soldiers suddenly pinned Mr. Hotchkiss into his 
corner with points that evidently hurt. 

“ Ouch ! ” 

“ You know this man, Sehor Day? ” 

“ Yes, General.” 

“ Is he to be trusted to speak the truth ? ” 

“ Never,” said Mr. Day firmly, “ unless the truth 
serves him better than lying.” 

“ Ah!” 

“ I understand he claims to have escaped from 
Gomez ? ” 

“ Sij sehor.” 

“ It may be so,” said Mr. Day. “ My daughter 
and nephew say they were in Gomez’s power day 


286 The Mission of Janice Day 

before yesterday and they have reason to believe that 
this Hotchkiss was captured by the bandit.” 

“And how strong was Gomez’s party when the 
senorita saw eet ? ” 

“ Forty!” 

“ Ah ! But this man say he have thousands of 
troops — that an attack in force is intended on the 
mesa.” 

“ It sounds as though there was some fighting 
going on out there,” admitted Mr. Day. “ But it 
may just be my own troops wasting ammunition. 
They have plenty — ^and are like children.” 

Mr. Day gave Tom Hotchkiss a long and pene- 
trating stare. 

“ I’m free to confess, mi general” he said finally, 
“ I don’t know whether to believe this fellow or not. 
He’s a criminal, wanted by the American officers. 
That is sure. It has always been my opinion that if 
a ma^ is crooked in one environment he is very apt 
to be so in another.” 

Before the doughty little commander could make 
reply the rattle of rifle shots increased. It grew 
nearer. Janice clung to her father’s arm. 

The door of the office-car was flung open and the 
Madam suddenly appeared. She wore a wonderfully 
figured satin boudoir gown and a cap to match; 
and she was plainly very much frightened. 

“ General ! General ! ” she cried. “ The cook has 
left! Is there really danger?” 


Tom Hotchkiss Reappears 287 

General De Soto Palo muttered something in 
Spanish that was probably not polite. His wife saw 
and recognized Janice. 

Oh, my dear ! ’’ she cried. We are the only 
two females here ! Return with me. I see the gen- 
eral is disturbed. Come, my dear. We are such 
goot friends — yes?” 

Before Janice could reply there sounded the sharp 
plop of a bullet and a hole appeared in the window- 
pane directly above the general’s desk. The bits of 
shattered glass showered over the little man in the 
nightcap ; but he did not move or show any alarm. 

Tom Hotchkiss squealed and tried to lie down 
in his corner. The two barefoot soldiers prodded 
him to a standing posture again. 

This had been a baggage car in its day, and the 
windows were few and high. The impact of other 
bullets in the wooden walls was plainly heard. The 
rifle fire was advancing and it was not all ammuni- 
tion wasted by the government troops. 

“ My angel,” said the general softly, ‘‘ take the 
senorita into the other car. Lie down below the 
level of the window sills — both. That will be safer.” 

Madam seized Janice’s hand and drew her out 
through the vestibule. Mr. Day made a motion to 
Marty. 

“ Just go along and see that nothing happens to 
them, my boy,” he said. 

The Pullman car was fitted with thin steel shut- 


288 The Mission of Janice Day 

ters over the plate-glass windows and they had been 
closed the night before; but evidently General De 
Soto Palo did not altogether trust these shutters to 
keep out stray bullets. 

The sharp ping of the lead as it sunk in the 
woodwork or the more resonant ring of those 
bullets glancing from the shutters became more 
and more frequent. The explosion of the guns 
sounded nearer. It was plain that the govern- 
ment troops were retreating from the southern edge 
of the mesa where the attack had opened. Dario 
Gomez and his followers seemed to be pressing on. 

Well, Marty, you wanted to see a battle,” his 
cousin said to the boy. “ Are you satisfied now ? ” 
Huh ! Fm not seein’ this one, am I ? ” he 
challenged. Hi ! whaFs that ? ” he added briskly. 

The distant shriek of a steam whistle came faintly 
to her ears. Janice and the generaFs wife looked at 
each other. Marty drawled: 

‘‘ Sounds like the old Constance Colfax cornin’ 
into the dock, don’t it, Janice? But I reckon they 
don’t have steamboats up in these hills, do they ? ” 


CHAPTER XXIX 


JUDGE B-DAY 

The long call of the whistle through the hills was 
smothered in another and nearer burst of firearms. 
The rattle of bullets against the half-armored side 
of the Pullman told their own story and told it 
unmistakably. The bandits were coming in force; 
the troops under General Palo’s subordinates were 
not standing up to the enemy at all ! 

The three in the Pullman heard the doughty little 
general charging out of the other car to take 
personal leadership of the defending forces, and 
Janice believed her father, wounded though he was, 
had gone with him. 

Marty had shot through the corridor of the car 
and the open compartments to the rear. There he 
clawed open the door and stepped out upon the 
observation platform. 

Again he had heard that cheerful, raucous whistle. 

“Hi tunket!” he said to Janice who followed. 
“If that don’t sound like a steamboat ” 

“ Or a steam train ? ” 

“ But those rails were torn up outside San Cristo- 
val.” 


290 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ They could be spiked to the sleepers again/’ the 
girl said quickly. 

“ Cricky ! who’s coming, then ? ” the excited boy 
demanded. ‘‘Friends or foes?” 

“Oh, dear me!” sighed Janice. “Everybody 
seems to be fighting everybody else down here. Sup- 
pose we are in the middle of a great battle, Marty 
Day?” 

“ Hi tunket ! It’ll be something to tell about 
when we get back to Polktown.” 

“ If we get back,” she shuddered. 

“ Shucks I of course we will. Though I’d like to 
stay here and get that mine to working again. I 
wonder if Uncle Brocky would let me?” 

“Marty Day! You’re the most awful-talking 
boy I ever heard. Oh ! ” 

Another volley of rifle shots drowned her voice. 
They crouched together by the open door of the car 
and heard the bullets sing past. 

“What shall we do if there are really piore of 
the enemy coming?” murmured Janice, after the 
immediate shower of lead was over. 

“Holler ‘ Viva Mejico!' and let it go at that,” 
grinned Marty. “ That goes big with all of ’em.” 

It was no laughing matter nevertheless, and Marty 
did not feel half so cheerful as he appeared. But 
the boy felt it incumbent upon him to keep up the 
spirits of his cousin. 

The sun was coming up, yet the shadows still lay 


Judge B-Day” 


291 


deep upon the mesa. Peering out of the door- 
way of the car Janice and Marty could see the shift- 
ing rapks of the government troops. They retired 
after each volley. How near, or how many the 
bandits numbered, the anxious spectators had no 
means of judging. 

That most of the rifle balls went high was, how- 
ever, a fact. They pattered on the sides of the 
cars, some of them above the windows; and there 
seemed to be few casualties. 

‘‘ It gets me! '' murmured Marty. 

Then the whistle sounded again — unmistakably 
that of a locomotive. It was approaching steadily. 
There was a steep grade up the front of the mesa 
and they could distinguish the panting of the loco- 
motive exhaust as it essayed this rise. 

IPs coming! Janice gasped. 

Nobody seemed to notice the approach of the 
strange locomotive but themselves. The desultory 
firing about them went on. The officers command- 
ing the government troops seemed to know but one 
order — that to fire by platoons and fall back.” It 
was true that the woods covered the position of the 
enemy and hid their number as well. 

On this side of the plateau there was no place for 
the maneuvering of horses. The ground was too 
rough. But why the general did not sweep the wood 
with his machine guns, or shell it with his how- 
itzers, seemed a mystery. It was not until after- 


292 The Mission of Janice Day 

ward that the Americans learned there had been 
other treachery besides that of Tom Hotchkiss. 
Every big gun had been put out of commission be- 
fore Dario Gomez’s attack. 

In the growing light there was now to be dis- 
tinguished the flash of rifles at the edge of the wood. 
Word was passed that the bandits were about to 
charge. 

At this flank of the line the officer in command 
thought more of his own safety and that of his men 
than aught else. At his order the troops suddenly 
shifted to the other side of the car! 

“ Hi tunket ! ” yelled Marty. “ This is where we 
get off! Lie down, Janice, for we are going to be 
between two fires.” 

The sun’s jolly red face appeared over the hills 
and suddenly revealed the battle picture clearly. 
The morning mists and rifle smoke were dissipated, 
and at almost the same moment the forefront of the 
whistling locomotive poked out of the forest. There 
were several slat cars attached to the great engine. 
Marty stood up again in the doorway of the Pull- 
man and yelled. He saw that the cattle cars bristled 
with rifles and were gay with red and green uni- 
forms. 

“Oh! who are they?” cried Janice, directly be- 
hind her cousin. 

“ They’re government troops, all right all right ! 
Reinforcements for Miz’ Madam, I declare. No 


“Judge B-Day” 293 

other soldiers in Mexico could afford real uniforms/’ 
Marty shouted. 

They beheld the uniformed soldiery pile out of 
the cars and heard them cheer. One figure in 
civilian dress was running ahead and came to the 
observation platform of the Pullman first. 

Viva Mejico! yelled Marty, glaring at this in- 
dividual as though he saw an apparition. 

“ You young whipper-snapper ! ” exclaimed the 
apparition. ‘‘ Where’s Janice? ” 

Nelson!^' 

“ Oh, then,” grumbled Marty, you see the same 
thing I do, do you? ” 

Janice darted past her cousin and stretched her 
arms out to the schoolmaster. As he leaped up the 
steps to meet her the troops reinforcing General De 
Soto Palo began to deploy across the mesa and the 
firing of the bandits from the wood suddenly ceased. 

‘‘ Do tell ! ” murmured Marty, staring at the 
schoolmaster and his cousin. Gone to a clinch, 
have they ? Huh ! I guess it’s time to go home.” 

It was some moments before Janice realized that 
her father was standing by, a smoking revolver in 
his left hand and a rather grim smile upon his 
lips. 

“ You might introduce me, my dear,” he said 
mildly. “ This, I presume, is Nelson ? ” 

“ Mr. Day ! ” cried the schoolmaster, who seemed 
much brisker and more assertive than had been his 


294 The Mission of Janice Day 

wont at home, I am delighted to see you looking so 
well. I feared ” 

'' Evidently/' Mr. Day said dryly. Was it fear 
that brought you down here into Mexico, Mr. 
Haley?" 

'' Yes, sir. Fear for Janice's safety," the young 
man replied with a direct look. ‘‘ It was for her I 
came." 

“Ah? Well, we'll talk of that later," Broxton 
Day returned. 

There was no time then for further personalities. 
Madam appeared, still in dishabille, to meet the 
schoolmaster, and the general, too, strutted forward. 

The bandits had made off; these reinforcements 
had been sent to obey his. General De Soto Palo's, 
orders ; his campaign must now be successful against 
all the rebels in this part of Chihuahua. But he 
would beg his good friend, Sehor B-Day, and the 
young Sehor Haley, to add to their party in retreat 
to the Border the so-br-r-rave wife of his bosom, 
Sehora Palo! There was, too, a certain locked 
chest 

It was decided before breakfast, the frightened 
cook having returned, that the Pullman car should 
be coupled to the second locomotive and be pulled 
back to San Cristoval. There it might be attached 
to some train going to El Paso, for the railroad was 
open again to the Border, the government troops 
patrolling all that part of Chihuahua. 


“Judge B-Day” 


295 


It was at breakfast that Nelson related in sequence 
his own adventures, after hearing of all that had 
happened to Janice and Marty. And Nelson boldly 
held Janice’s hand — under the table — neglecting to 
eat while he told his moving tale. 

He had had no means of learning when and where 
Janice and Marty crossed the Rio Grande, if at all, 
until he reached El Paso. Then a long telegram 
reached him from Frank Bowman, repeating 
Marty’s message sent to Jason Day from Fort Han- 
cock, and including the information of the presence 
of Tom Plotchkiss at the Border. 

At El Paso Nelson had learned the railroad was 
open once more and that a government force was 
assigned to join General Palo’s division at the mines 
beyond San Cristoval. Therefore, believing to get 
to Mr. Broxton Day and rescue him from further 
peril was the more important. Nelson had post- 
poned looking for Janice and Marty, but had used 
such influence as he could muster to obtain per- 
mission to join the reinforcements going up into the 
hills. 

I did not know where this dear girl was — in the 
body,” said Nelson, with a proud look at Janice; 

but I knew where her heart was. It would be 
with her father up here in the hills and I knew I 
could do nothing to win her gratitude more surely 
than by coming immediately to the Alderdice 
Mine.” 


296 The Mission of Janice Day 

Nelson ! how well you know me, after all ! ” 
Janice murmured. 

There was much haste in getting ready for the 
departure. The general declared over and over 
again that the front was no place for his dear wife, 
after all. He had made a mistake in allowing her 
to come on from New York. It would be a long 
time yet before the district would be a settled place. 
But in time And there was the chest of valu- 

able — er — ^papers, and the like ! 

Most of them do it,’’ Mr. Broxton Day said 
reflectively to his little party. “ Just as soon as 
these ‘ liberators ’ acquire a little power they acquire 
treasure of a lasting quality. And this treasure they 
cache outside of Mexico. It is a sign of thrift; 
the laying up of something against the proverbial 
rainy day. And these rainy days in Mexico some- 
times suggest the deluge.” 

There was another small matter that puzzled the 
general. 

“ He is Americano, senor,” he said to Mr. Day. 
“ He of the red vest. I know not for sure whether 
he was sent to rouse panic among my troops or no. 
He succeeded in doing so and Dario Gomez might 
have plundered the camp with his handful of 
men. 

‘‘If he were one of my own people I would have 
him shot without compunction. If you would de- 
cide, senor ” 


Judge B-Day ” 29? 

‘‘ Let me talk to him, General,’' said Broxton Day 
quietly. 

His talk with the man who had swindled his 
brother resulted in Tom Hotchkiss gladly joining 
the party bound for the Border. What they might 
do to him in the United States would be nothing so 
bad as an adobe wall and a file of riflemen ! 

“ Now, Judge B-Day!” whispered Janice in her 
father’s ear, '‘pass judgment likewise on another 
culprit.” 

" Who, Daughter? ” 

“ What do you think of Nelson now that you have 
seen him and know what he has done ? ” 

“ My dear,” said “ Judge B-Day,” smiling at her 
tenderly, " caution was never yet a fault to my 
mind — and Nelson possesses it. It may go well 
with your impulsiveness. After all, I think your 
Nelson is a good deal of a man.” 

This dialogue was between Janice and her father. 
Marty was still eyeing the cringing Tom Hotchkiss. 

" The water’s all squeezed out o’ that sponge,” 
sniffed Marty. “ He’ll never fill out that red vest of 
his again — not proper. And won’t dad take on a 
new lease of life when he hears about it — hi 
tunket ! ” 


CHAPTER XXX 


AT HOME 

The rear room of Massey’s drugstore, behind the 
prescription counter, was the usual meeting place 
of the Polktown schoolboard. There was, it is true, 
a well furnished board-room in the new school 
building ; but habit was strong in the community and 
as long as the bespectacled druggist held a vote in 
school matters the important business of the board 
would be done here. 

The day Nelson Haley had left them in the 
lurch and they had to spurry about to obtain the 
services of a substitute principal for the Polktown 
school, the board gathered after supper at Massey’s 
in a very serious mood. There was considerable 
indignation expressed at the young schoolmaster’s 
course. Even Mr. Middler looked gravely admoni- 
tory when he spoke of Nelson. Massey sputtered 
a good deal over it. 

‘‘ That jest about fixes him with me,'* he said. 
‘‘ Leavin’ us in a hole this way to go traipsin’ off to 
the Mexican Border after that gal and Marty Day. 
He’d better hunt a new job when he comes back.” 


At Home 299 

“ Let us not be hasty,” Mr. Middler said, but half 
agreeing. 

It was Cross Moore who took up the matter from 
an entirely different point of view. He was usually 
a man of few words and he was not voluble now; 
but what he said drew the surprised and instant 
attention of everyone. 

Did it ever occur to you,” he drawled, “ that 
mebbe we owe Nelson Haley something?” 

“ Owe him? No, we don't,” snapped Massey, the 
treasurer. I gave him his check up to the fifteenth 
day of December only two days ago.” 

Something money can't pay for,” pursued the 
unruffled selectman. ‘‘ You know, we were pretty 
hard on him all last summer. About them lost gold 
coins, I mean.” 

''Well! we gave him his job back, didn’t we?” 
asked Crawford. 

" True, true,” the minister joined in. 

" Well, what ye goin' to do about his runnin' off 
an’ leavin us in this fix?” bristled Massey, glaring 
about at his fellow committeemen. 

" I move you, Mr. Chairman,” said Cross Moore 
quietly, " that we give Mr. Haley a vacation — 
with pay.” 

" Oh, by ginger 1 ” gasped the excited druggist. 
" For how long, I sh’d admire to know? ” 

" Till he returns with Janice Day,” said Cross 
Moore. 


300 The Mission of Janice Day 

“ I — I second the motion/’ stammered the min- 
ister. 

And this decision — finally passed without a dis- 
senting voice — made no more stir in the community 
than did several occurrences during the days that 
immediately followed. 

Polktown was indeed stirred to its depths. Nel- 
son’s hasty departure to bring back Janice and that 
Day boy,” as it was said, was but one of these sur- 
prising happenings. 

Something happened at Hopewell Drugg’s that 
excited all the women in the neighborhood. 

Jefers-pelters ! ” was Walky Dexter’s comment. 

They run together like a flock o’ hens when the 
rooster finds the wheat-stack. Sich a catouse ye 
never did hear ! Ye’d think, ter listen to ’em, there’d 
never been a baby born in this town since Adam was 
a small child — er-haw! haw! haw! I dunno what 
they would ha’ done. I’m sure, if it had been 
twins.” 

Uncle Jason came very near to being a deserted 
husband for a week. Aunt ’Mira seemed determined 
to live at Hopewell Drugg’s. He finally plodded 
across town and entered the store on the side street 
with determination in his soul and fire in his eye. 
The store chanced to be empty, but from the rear 
room came the wailing notes of Hopewell’s violin. 
Yet there was a sweetness to the tones of the instru- 
ment, too, even to Jason Day. Uncle Jason halted 


At Home 301' 

and his weather-beaten face lost its hardness and 
the light of battle died out of his eyes. 

“ ‘ Rock-a-bye, baby ! on the tree-top/ ’’ 

wailed the old tune. Uncle Jason tiptoed to the 
doorway. Hopewell, with the instrument cuddled 
under his chin, was picking out the old song, but 
falteringly. 

“And there's jest glory in his face,” muttered 
Uncle Jason. 

“ Oh, Mr. Day ! ” exclaimed the storekeeper, 
awakening suddenly and laying down his violin 
with tenderness. “ Did — did you want some- 
thing? ” 

“ Wal, I was bent on gittin' my wife. But I 
reckon I might's well lend her to ye a leetle longer, 
an' be neighborly. How's the boy?” 

“ They tell me, Mr. Day, that he's a wonderful 
child,” Hopewell said seriously. 

“ I bet ye ! ” chuckled Uncle Jason. “ They all 
be. Wal, as I can't have Almiry, ye might's well 
give me a loaf of bread. Gosh! boughten bread's 
dry stuff ! — an' some o' that there quick-made pud- 
din' ye jest hafter add water to. 

“ Somehow,” continued Mr. Day, “ I can't get 
along very well without some dessert. Been useter 
it so many years, ye know. And them doughnuts 
Almiry left me seemed jest to melt away like an 
Aperl snowstorm.” 


302 The Mission of Janice Day 

You better wait a little, Mr. Day,” said the 
storekeeper, smiling. “ I heard your wife tell mine 
that she thought everything would be all right now, 
and she was fixin’ to go home.” 

‘‘ Thanks be ! ” exclaimed Mr. Day devoutly. 

‘‘You been in deep trouble yourself, Mr. Day,” 
said Hopewell. 

“ Yep. But I see the clouds liftin’,” Uncle Jason 
said, licking his lips and leaning both hands on the 
counter. “ Them bank folks sartainly was right 
arter me. Houndin’ the court to order me sold 
up — they did so ! 

“ But when that telegram come from my son 
down there on the Border about Tom Hotchkiss ” — 
Jason Day said “my son,” oh, so proudly! — “I 
showed it to the judge an’ he granted stay of per- 
ceedin’s. 

“ ’Course, we ain’t heard nothin’ more from 
Marty and Janice. But I reckon they air busy 
a-rescuin’ of Broxton Day. When that's done we’^11 
Tarn all about Tom Hotchkiss. 

“ Did you say my wife would be ready to go 
hum soon ? ” 

“ Yes. You see,” said Hopewell cheerfully, 
“ Grandma Scattergood is going to stay with us 
now.” 

Uncle Jason was no more startled by this an- 
nouncement than he would have been had he looked 
into the sitting room behind the store just then and 


At Home 


303 


seen the birdlike little old woman sitting close beside 
the cradle which she was rocking with an industrious 
foot. 

Mrs. Day was putting on her bonnet before the 
looking-glass and trying the strings in a neat bow- 
knot between two of her chins. In a cushioned 
chair, well wrapped from any possible draught, sat 
’Rill, the roses gone from her cheeks but with a 
wonderful light in her eyes. 

Mrs. Scattergood was leaning forward to scru- 
tinize the baby in the cradle. His eyes were wide 
open and he was staring quite as earnestly at Mrs. 
Scattergood. Suddenly he screwed up his tiny face 
into what might have been a smile. 

‘‘ For the Good Land o’ Goshen ! ” gasped Mrs. 
Scattergood. 

She turned suddenly and beckoned to little Lottie, 
who stood beside Mrs. Drugg’s chair. 

‘‘ Lottie, come here,” she commanded. 

The little girl went to her and stood looking down 
into the cradle, too. Mrs. Scattergood put an arm 
about her and drew her down closer, looking first 
into the baby’s face and then into the luminous violet 
eyes of Lottie. 

‘‘ For the Good Land o’ Goshen ! ” she repeated. 

Do you know, ’Rill, the blessed baby’s got eyes jest 
like Lottie? An’ I believe his nose is goin’ to be 
like hers, too. 

Fancy ! He favors Hopewell’s side of the fam’- 


I 


304 The Mission of Janice Day 

bly a whole lot more than he does ourn. Wal! I 
alius have said that the Druggses was well-favored.’^ 

“ There could be nothing more to add to my hap- 
piness if my boy should look like his father,” her 
daughter said softly. 

“ I never hope to live to see the Millennium,” re- 
marked Aunt ’Mira as she went back across town 
with Mr. Day. “ I had a great-aunt that was a 
Millerite and give away all her things an’ climbed 
up on to the house roof expectin’ the end of the 
world an’ to be caught up into Glory — only she fell 
off the roof an’ broke her hip an’ the world didn’t 
come to an end anyway. 

“ Howsomever, I consider I’ve seen what ’most 
matches the Millennium.” 

‘‘ What’s that ? ” demanded her puzzled spouse. 

“ Miz’ Scattergood a-huggin’ little Lottie on the 
one hand an’ cooin’ to that baby in the cradle on 
t’other. Does beat all what fools babies make of 
us women,” and she laughed, though she wiped the 
tears away. 

“Don’t you mean angels, ’stead o’ fools?” 
asked Uncle Jason. 

It was true that Frank Bowman was very busy 
about this time. The last spike was driven to affix 
the rails of the V. C. branch road to Polktown and 
he was working like a Trojan to make all ready for 
the regular running of trains to and from the main 



A rising murmur went through the crowd ; then they cheered. 


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At Home 


305 


line. But there were people in Polktown who never 
would forgive him for suppressing certain tele- 
grams that reached him from the Southwest about 
this time. 

“ There ain^t no excuse for a man bein’ a hawg/^ 
Walky Dexter afterward declared. ‘‘ Frank might 
ha’ intermated what was cornin’ off when the fust 
train was due ter pull into Polktown ; I sha’n’t never 
feel jest the same towards him again.” 

Half the town had turned out to welcome the 
initial train. The stores were trimmed with bunting 
and many of the residences displayed flags, as 
though it were the Fourth of July or Memorial Day. 

Mr. Middler was scheduled for a speech. He 
made it, too; but not quite the speech the good 
minister had intended. For it was his eyes that 
first identified one of the passengers on the incoming 
train. Before the locomotive halted Mr. Middler 
uttered a very robust shout and rushed to the steps 
of the first passenger car, his hands outstretched. 

‘‘ Janice ! Janice Day ! ” 

A rising murmur went through the crowd; then 
they cheered. The girl stood smiling on the plat- 
form looking out over the* crowd, and when they 
cheered such a fire of pride and delight flashed up 
in her countenance and sparkled from her hazel eyes 
as nobody had ever seen before. 

“ Oh — folks! ” she murmured, stretching her 
hands out to them. 


306 The Mission of Janice Day 

Frank Bowman stood at one side, smiling broadly. 
“ We’re not celebrating the opening of the railroad 
branch,” he said to Elder Concannon, “ half as much 
as we are celebrating the home-coming of Janice 
Day.” 

Janice went down the steps into Mr. Middler’s 
arms. Directly behind her was a man with his 
arm in a sling who looked enough like Jason Day — 
though younger and sprucer — to be identified as 
Janice’s father. 

Then came Marty grinning so broadly that, as 
Walky Dexter declared, it almost engulfed his ears ! 
Lastly came Nelson Haley, walking with his head 
up and a smile of great confidence on his face. 

Jefers-pelters ! ” said Walky. “ I guess school- 
master’s quite some punkins again in his own esti- 
mation. It ain’t done him no harm to go down 
there to Mexico.” 

There was a great deal of public congratulation 
and welcome for the party from the Border ; but it 
was that evening, in the broad sitting room of the 
old Day house on Hillside Avenue, when the excite- 
ment of the home-coming had worn off, that the 
family party began to realize the adventurous weeks 
that had elapsed were finally all behind them. 

The wind soughed eerily in the trees about the 
house — ‘‘ working up a storm for Christmas,” Uncle 
Jason prophesied. Marty brought in an armful of 
knotty chunks and fed the great, air-tight stove. 


At Home 


307 


They gathered around the fire, for supper was 
over and Aunt ^Mira and Janice had come in from 
the kitchen. Nelson had managed to secure the 
chair next to Janice. Mr. Jason Day and his half- 
brother sat side by side. 

“ Well,” said Marty, blowing a huge sigh, this 
ain’t much like Mexico.” 

“ I sh’d hope not ! ” exclaimed his mother, seek- 
ing her knitting in the basket on the shelf under 
the table. “ That’s a reg’lar heathenish land, I 
expect.” 

It sure is ! ” agreed her son with fervor. Why, 
d’you know what they live on, Ma?” 

“ I guess you didn’t git home fodder down there, 
Marty,” said Mrs. Day, chuckling comfortably. 

What do they live on? ” 

“ Beans,” said the boy in a sepulchral tone. “ An’ 
say! I’ve busted your bean-pot. Don’t you dast 
give me pork an’ beans for a year come next Christ- 
mas.” 

They laughed. It was easy to laugh now — for 
all the party. Humor did not have to be of a high 
order to bring the smiles to their lips, for a deep and 
abiding happiness dwelt in all their hearts. 

Mr. Broxton Day looked around the old and well- 
remembered sitting room. “ It looks about the 
same as it did when I was a boy, Jase,” he said. 

Yep. Almiry’s kep’ things about as when ma 
was with us.” 


308 


The Mission of Janice Day 

Almira is a wonderful woman,” said Broxton 
Day, smiling across at his sister-in-law. 

“ You be still, Brocky Day,” said Aunt 'Mira, 
bridling. 

“ Yes,” he told her gravely. “ For you've kept 
the spirit of the old home alive here, too.” 

She and Janice,” said Marty. 

Dunno what we would do without Janice/' Aunt 
'Mira said, quick to turn the compliment. 

“ Ain’t it so? ” echoed Uncle Jason. “ And you 
cornin' hum — right back from the grave as ye might 
say, Broxton — is more'n a delight to us. It’s a 
blessin’. What you tell me about that — that derned 
Tom Hotchkiss ” 

‘‘ Don't cuss, Jason — an' you a perfessin' mem- 
ber,” urged his wife. 

‘‘ How you goin' to speak of sech a reptile like 
him without cussin’, I wanter know ? ” grumbled 
Uncle Jason. 

“ Well, he's got his,” said Marty briskly. ‘‘ He 
had all that money hid away in banks, and was just 
goin’ to lay low till things blew over and then he'd 
set up housekeepin' in that red vest of his some- 
where else, an' live easy. But that vest o' his has 
sort o' faded, ain’t it ? ” 

“ Hopewell Drugg's got in some real pretty 
knitted ones,” murmured Aunt 'Mira, picking up 
a dropped stitch. 

Marty gaped in surprise. 


At Home 309 

“ Real pretty whatf demanded her husband 
sharply. 

'' Vests. D’ye want one for your Christmas, 
Jason? ” 

“ Oh, cricky ! ” ejaculated Marty. I seen ’em 
hanging there in his window when I went over this 
afternoon before supper. Dad, they are fully as 
gay as Tom Hotchkiss’ was.” 

“I bet you was over there to see Lottie Drugg,*’ 
said his mother quickly. 

What if I was? ” demanded the bold, yet blush- 
ing Marty. I dunno nobody in Polktown I was 
gladder to see than Lottie, ’nless ’twas you, Ma.” 

‘‘Ahem!” said Mr. Jason Day. “An’ he prob- 
erbly won’t say that many more times, Almiry. So 
make the most of it.” 

“ Yes,” Janice said softly. “ Marty’s growing 
up.” 

At this the youth grew red in the face and bit 
his lip. But then he straightened up boldly, as if 
he were a soldier. 

“Huh! speak for yourself, Janice Day. You’ve 
grown up, you have! You ought to have seen all 
those greaser army officers dancin’ around after 
her,” and he cast a teasing glance at Nelson. 

“ You can’t bother me, young man,” replied the 
schoolmaster, smiling broadly. 

“ I guess I’m the only one to be bothered at all 
by our Janice’s growing up,” her father said a little 


310 


The Mission of Janice Day 

seriously. ‘‘ Just as I have her again I seem next 
door to losing her.’^ 

Janice got up, crossed the room, and kissed him; 
but her glance was warm for Nelson as she did so. 

The muffled tones of the old grandfather's clock 
in the hall clashed the hour of ten. Uncle Jason 
reached down The Book from the corner of the 
mantelpiece and opened it, reading that night the 
story of the happiness of another family whose 
brother came back from the grave. 


THE END 


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BINDERY INC. 

DEC 88 



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